


Year 1 - The Beginning of the Return

by Casazael



Series: The Dwarf Who Lived [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:42:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 87,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23368648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casazael/pseuds/Casazael
Summary: The sole survivor from a tragic past and an orphan who stood out from the rest, Kíli Durin knew he was someone different. He did not, however, expect to find his life forever changed when he was introduced to the wonderful world of magic at the age of 11. While it was full of magic and adventure beyond his wildest imagination, Kíli also found himself the subject of discrimination, distrust, and sometimes bullying. Fortunately, he was not alone. His friends would always stand by his side as he started the journey into this brand new world.
Series: The Dwarf Who Lived [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680766
Comments: 9
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to write something in the Harry Potter universe since I'm a massive fan of the books. I do like the Hobbit too, probably because Richard Armitage is just too hot lol. But in all seriousness, I did enjoy meshing the worlds of the LoTR and Harry Potter. This will be the first story of a 7-part series so get ready lol. I've got pretty much everything written so it definitely won't be a WIP. I'm just going through another round of editing and will be posting one chapter a week, maybe two.
> 
> English is not my first language nor do I have a beta reader. But I strive to keep my story typo-free (a girl can dream lol).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, the Hobbit, or the LoTR.

For someone who had spent most of his life in London, Kíli Durin’s knowledge of the capital city was woefully limited. Hardly anyone could blame him though, for he had spent the majority of his 11-year life in an orphanage right in the middle of London. It was a large grey brick house. Despite its somewhat dreary exterior, it was clean inside with gleaming windows, roaring fireplaces, and a small garden in the back. It might not be the most luxurious place but it was a safe haven for so many abandoned children and orphans like Kíli.

Kíli had little memory of his parents, which he supposed was truly a blessing in disguise. He had seen too many of his fellow orphans having a hard time adjusting to lives without their families. But Kíli never knew his parents, not really anyway. He was sent to the orphanage when he was only 1 year old. Naturally, he had been very curious about his parentage, yet he could never get much out of the formidable-looking matron of the orphanage, Madam McGonagall. Kíli had no idea if his parents simply gave him up or were killed in an accident. Honestly, he wasn’t sure which version he preferred. Would you rather have your parents alive but not want you or have them both dead? Thus Kíli found it hard in his heart to begrudge Madam McGonagall, especially when the matron always treated him with special care underneath her somewhat stern appearance.

When he was younger, Kíli had always envied the orphans who got picked by potential foster families. He had always imagined that they would leave the orphanage and find a good caring family of their own to live happily ever after. He was never given the chance however, for Madam McGonagall insisted on keeping him out of any of those occasions. At first, Kíli thought it was because of his unusual appearance, which troubled him but only occasionally for Kíli was always the cheery sort. He was shorter than most of the other children and displayed signs of a beard (or should he call it whiskers) even at a very young age. It certainly wasn’t lack of nutrition, for despite common beliefs, the children in this particular orphanage were fed properly on a maybe not overly satisfying but still nutritiously adequate diet. Moreover, Kíli was not a skinny kid. True that he wasn’t the strongest nor the broadest. But he wasn’t weak by any means. He was lean but muscular, small but athletic, with more energy and life than most of the other children combined. Whenever he wanted, which unfortunately for the caretakers of the orphanage was most of the time, he could wreak real havoc. He, therefore, had to contend with himself that his parents must be quite short. Perhaps his parents were the indigenous people from the Andes, something he read from a book that he nicked from Madam McGonagall’s office, which would explain his short stature, strong build, dark hair, tanned skin, dark eyes, and high cheekbones. As for the mysterious whiskers, Kíli was none the wiser. When he did ask about it one day after being teased relentlessly by a new kid, almost in angry tears, Madam McGonagall shushed the nurse looking after him, assured him that there was nothing wrong with his appearance, and sent him out to the backyard. They had finally built a proper though quite small football field in the backyard, which quickly distracted him enough that he soon forgot the question.

Later, Kíli did wonder if that was why he was never presented to potential foster families. He was still hurt by the thought every now and then but his naturally cheerful nature and the many distractions in the orphanage prevented him from dwelling on the matter. After all, Madam McGonagall never seemed to like him any less than the other children. If anything, she seemed to tolerate him more, with his non-stopping accidents and his high-energy level. He was rarely scolded and sometimes he would find small treats in the forms of sweets and picture books hidden under his pillowcase. 

Kíli did not fully realise his fortune until much later. He still remembered that fateful night when he was 6 years old. A boy Brian, who had been picked by a foster family a year ago, was sent back to the orphanage that day. Of course, no children were allowed to see him but Kíli was never one for abiding rules. Naturally, he sneaked off to the infirmary where Brian was kept that night and what he saw through the cracks shocked him to no end. Brian, a strong healthy boy before he left the orphanage, was covered in bruises, some old and some painfully new. What was more, the fire of life that used to be burning in his green eyes seemed to have died. It took them almost 6 months to coax Brian out of his shell and Kíli could never forget what he had seen that night.

Full of indignation and also curiosity, Kíli went straight to Madam McGonagall. He half expected the stern matron to scold him for being too nosy and send him back to his room. To his surprise, Madam McGonagall did answer, with barely suppressed rage fortunately not directed at him, “Not all children are treated nicely in their foster families. There are so many different reasons why people want to adopt. Most of them are decent people who cannot have their own children. But sometimes, you come across some really bad people who only want to adopt for their," she paused and cleared her throat, "personal desires. They are not common, but they certainly do exist, and no background check can weed them out for they can be seemingly respectable people, like Brian’s foster parents. Oh, how I wish those bastards roast in hell for all eternity for what they’ve done to those poor kids!”

“Is that why you never present me to them?” asked Kíli, though he had kind of guessed the answer already. He might not be the brightest kid, but his intuition was always sharp. For some reason he knew not of, Madam McGonagall was indeed looking after him. The matron gave him a rare smile, “Partly yes. I made someone a promise to look after you and I will not go back on my words. I know the orphanage may not be the best place for a child to grow up in but considering the dangers outside, I’d rather keep you where I can see you.”

A wave of relief and gratitude flushed through Kíli as he had never felt before. Acting on an impulse, which was really second nature to him, he flung his arms around Madam McGonagall and buried his dark head in Madam McGonagall’s warm chest, “This is the best place in the world for me!” He could feel Madam McGonagall freeze under his hug but eventually, he felt a soft hand petting his wild dark curls and he liked to imagine that Madam McGonagall was smiling happily when she did that.

Time passed and went. Soon Kíli found something else unusual about him. On his 7th birthday celebration, which was just a small affair in the humble orphanage but still an occasion for Kíli to overflow with excitement and energy, he discovered for the first time that he could do things with just his will. It was kind of embarrassing really. Mrs Lily Potter the cook baked a small chocolate cake that smelt absolutely divine and had Kíli’s mouth water before it was even brought to their dinner table. Of course, nobody was to eat the cake until the birthday candles were lit and birthday wishes were made. The only problem was that the matches were nowhere to be found and Kíli really couldn’t wait. Before anyone knew what happened, the candles lit up on their own under Kíli’s intense gaze and the room fell silent.

In the end, it was again Madam McGonagall who came to Kíli’s rescue. She muttered something about dry hot summer days (It was a very hot July) and prompted Kíli to blow the candles. Although nobody said anything on the matter, Kíli could have sworn that Madam McGonagall gave him a meaningful look before they were sent to bed that night.

Ever since then, Kíli started to notice more and more exhibitions of his strange ability. Granted he could not control it most of the time and he really should not be blamed for most of its aftermaths. His previous track record in the pranking department, however, meant that people tended to think he planned everything on purpose. Honestly, how could anyone think that Kíli would shave off Mrs Norris the orphanage cat’s fur, or that he would dye Dean’s hair neon blue, or that he would make Seamus tap dance on the dinner table, naked? True, he might have thought those ideas funny and just, especially after Seamus had accidentally set his favourite picture book on fire. But it wasn’t like he would actually act out the plan. Yet still, he kept getting into trouble for things he had no control over, which was both frustrating and scary for Kíli, and even Madam McGonagall could not overlook this any longer. Sighing heavily, she called Kíli to her office one day.

“You have always been a special boy,” Madam McGonagall’s tone was not unkind. If anything, she sounded almost proud, “When a friend of mine entrusted you to me, I understand all the implications that come with it and I have promised him to give you the best care I can provide. Your abilities surprise me though. I didn’t expect so much from such a young age.”

Kíli fidgeted uncomfortably under Madam McGonagall’s gaze. He wondered if he should apologise for all the headaches he had caused because, after all, he did cause them even though he never meant to. But his curiosity overruled and he asked eagerly, “You know about my ability? What is it? Some kind of superpower?”

Chuckling slightly, Madam McGonagall shook her head, “I’m not the best person to explain this to you. I’m not someone like you. But don’t worry. Someone will do it properly soon enough. My only job is to ensure your safety, health, and if possible happiness until that happens.”

“When will that happen then?”

“Once you’ve turned 11.”

This seemed like a century away for Kíli. “But that’s 4 years later!” whined Kíli as he was never one with much patience. 

“Then I suggest you learn to be patient,” Madam McGonagall’s lips twitched suspiciously and Kíli sulked, “You will need that later anyway. But for now, you will be homeschooled.”

That was another blow for Kíli. How could he, a perfectly normal and fairly popular kid, well amongst the orphanage at least, be homeschooled? All his mates would laugh themselves silly once they learned about this. His displeasure must have shown quite clearly on his face for Madam McGonagall put a placating hand on his shoulder, “It will only be temporary until you can control your ability or until you’re 11. We will take turns to teach you and you can help us with the younger kids here. Oh please Kíli, your puppy dog eyes won’t save you this time. I cannot risk you losing control of your power in your primary school.”

Pouting unhappily, Kíli had to concede that Madam McGonagall had a point. It would be quite dangerous not to mention potentially humiliating if he lost control outside the orphanage. See, he was a perfectly reasonable young man, not some rash reckless kid like people liked to believe thank you very much. Still, if he could control his ability though, he’d be back in school in no time.

“How do I control my ability then?”

Madam McGonagall sighed, “As I’ve said, I’m not like you. I don’t know the details of such things. One thing I do know though is that such power comes from your heart and is controlled by your will. Maybe the reason why you lose control of it so easily has something to do with your disposition. Try to feel it and then reign it in, channel it and control it rather than let it control you. That’s the best advice I can give you.”

Of course, as Kíli realised later that day, since Madam McGonagall was not one with that ability, she actually knew nothing about magic and all her advice could all be bonkers. But still, it was the only one Kíli had gotten at the moment and it did seem to make sense, and it wasn’t like Kíli had to do anything stupid like running around naked to follow it. So he figured he might as well give it a try, just to see if it worked.

Miraculously, the advice did work, though it took a lot of practice and quite a few damaged items in the orphanage, one of such incidents resembled a small scale hurricane. Eventually, after two years of hard work, Kíli had learned to control his power. Nowadays, he knew how to move things and place them exactly where he wanted them when he was feeling lazy, which tended to happen quite often, how to calm kids and animals when they were upset or stressed, and most importantly, how not to lose his temper and cause things to explode or fly about in the room. After another incident-free year, Madam McGonagall finally agreed to let him go back to finish his last year of primary school after he promised not to use his ability outside the orphanage. 

Even though Kíli was beside himself with joy to rejoin his friends in primary school, the one thing he truly looked forward to was his 11th birthday this July. School would have ended by then and Kíli would be ready to go to secondary school, which was another big moment in his life. He sometimes wondered what kind of school he could go to. He knew the orphanage was not made of money and he could not afford to go to one of those public schools. But his grades were not bad and his teachers told him that he had some real potential in arts and sports. Being an orphan of course meant that his choices in life would be limited. He had to go to one of those state schools but maybe he could choose a grammar school instead of a secondary modern. 

This was not the main reason for Kíli’s excitement though. If Madam McGonagall was being truthful, someone like him would come to visit him after he turned 11 and give him the answers he had always wanted. Being a naturally curious kid, Kíli felt his heart swell with excitement every time at the thought of learning a secret of himself. What he didn’t realise, however, was how that secret would change his life forever.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone stays safe!

When that special day finally came, Kíli could hardly contain himself. After waking up at 5 in the morning, he got dressed quickly and quietly before running downstairs to the kitchen. Of course, nobody was up yet but Kíli wasn’t going to let that deter him. He set about making breakfast for everyone and was it going to be the best breakfast ever! An hour later, the table in the dining room was laden with food, starting from scrambled eggs to baked beans, from freshly cut fruit to oatmeals, from buttered toasts to pots of hot tea, all emitting mouth-watering smells, which was surely what drew people slowly out of their slumber into the room.

“Kíli!” Mrs Potter scolded him with a big smile on her face. “You’re the birthday boy! You’re not supposed to do any work today. We should be the one pampering you, not the other way around.”

Running into Mrs Potter for a big hug, Kíli beamed brightly. “I’m too happy to sleep. Since I’m already up, I want to make the best breakfast for everyone! Besides, you will make me those chocolate cakes of yours for dinner, won’t you?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” smiled Mrs Potter as she ruffled Kíli’s already unruly curls lovingly. 

One by one, the staff of the orphanage filed in, followed by the still yawning children. They all wished Kíli a happy birthday and hugged him, even Madam McGonagall, who smiled knowingly at Kíli’s enthusiasm. This alone lifted Kíli’s mood even further if possible. Madam McGonagall had not forgotten about what she told him 4 years ago and it seemed like it was going to happen today.

After a hearty breakfast, Mrs Potter shooed Kíli out of the dining room, “you’re not washing up after the breakfast you’ve made,” and Kíli went happily into the garden to play some football with the other boys. He reckoned he could have gone out for the day, to the park or even the zoo. But the last thing he wanted was to miss the stranger’s visit. The zoo and park could wait.

Sure enough, a knock on the front door sounded at just past 10. Too late for posts and milk, this had to be his visitor. Kíli passed the ball to Brian and dashed into the house, wiping sweat off his face. Now he regretted his after breakfast activities. Even without a mirror, he knew he looked a total mess. His usually unruly hair was stuck to his face with sweat, his face red from all the running and kicking, his shirt smudged with dirt and grass from the falls, he could even see the start of a spectacular bruise on his shin from one of Dean’s vicious tackles. Maybe he could still run upstairs and tidy himself up a bit. The thought, however, left his mind as soon as he set eyes on the visitor.

The stranger must be in his mid-40s, for his face was somewhat lined and hardened with the burdens of life. He was also bald, though he did have a spectacular dark brown beard. What he lacked in hair, he made up with tattoos. His bald head was covered with them and he even had quite a few on his fingers, although the latter were partially obscured by his knuckle dusters. They were written in languages Kíli did not recognise though and he wondered briefly what they meant. Judging by the visitor’s warrior-like appearance, it was not that hard to make a guess. The scars on his face and strong muscled arms only attributed to his overall image of a battle-hardened fighter. Kíli, therefore, could hardly fault Miss Clearwater, the youngest of the staff in the orphanage, for gasping in fright and taking a step back. Poor girl, she probably thought him some kind of homicidal maniac ready to kill them all.

What intrigued Kíli even more was the visitor’s height. Despite his extremely strong and broad build (Kíli could see the veins popping in the muscles of his arms), he was not much taller than Kíli. Now Kíli was already aware of his own small stature compared to his peers but this man was fully-grown. In fact, he was about the same height as Miss Clearwater, who was, unfortunately, clutching the door desperately and swaying on the spot. Kíli would usually feel more sympathy towards her plight but he was simply too fascinated by the visitor to care. He had never met anyone who resembled him more in stature and build and surely this meant that the stranger was one of them. Maybe all of his kind were short and broad.

“Dwalin Fundinson, at yer service,” The stranger bowed deeply, presenting all his tattoos on his bald head to poor Miss Clearwater, who finally fainted from nerves. “Ah, that’s unfortunate.” The stranger, or rather Mister Fundinson, frowned slightly, “Oh well, can’t be helped. So, yeh must be young Kíli.”

“Ye… yes,” stuttered Kíli, looking between Mister Fundinson and Miss Clearwater with uncertainty. “Er, maybe I should call for help.”

“Hmm,” Mister Fundinson stroked his beard with apparent fondness before shrugging. “Oh well, why not? But I’m here to see yeh, laddie.”

“I’ll be back in just a minute,” promised Kíli and he turned to look for help before realising that his manners were terribly missing. “Forgive me, Kíli Durin, er,” in his haste to appear sophisticated and knowledgeable of his own kind, he curtsied clumsily, “to at your service, Mister Fundinson.”

“Dwalin will do,” laughed the warrior, “My brother Balin also teaches at Hogwarts and Professor Fundinson is just too confusing for the students. You can call me Professor Dwalin or just, well, Dwalin.”

Kíli blinked. He had no idea what the strange Mister Fundinson, no, Professor Dwalin as he corrected himself, was talking about. What was Hogwarts? Was it a school, a university maybe? Was that the university he would go to after he finished secondary school? Maybe he could learn more about his abilities there. Or did people like him just take regular jobs like university professors? 

Luckily, Kíli found Madam McGonagall with little difficulty. The matron rushed downstairs and stopped in her tracks the moment she saw Dwalin. This abrupt halt sent a shiver down Kíli’s spine. What had he done? What if this man was not the visitor they were supposed to receive today? What if he really was a homicidal maniac? And Kíli just left him there, unsupervised with a passed out Miss Clearwater for company. He could have killed half the orphanage by now (or at least reduced them to the same state of coma with his appearance alone). Madam McGonagall’s next words, however, eased his anxiety.

“Mister Dwalin, I did not expect you here. I thought surely Gandalf would be the one…”

“The Headmaster is elsewhere engaged today,” replied Mister Dwalin as he stepped forward to bow to Madam McGonagall. “Ministry business. He sent me and his apologies instead.”

“Nonsense,” smiled Madam McGonagall, walking down the stairs to greet Mister Dwalin. “Mister Grey is a busy man. This may be better anyway. You are more qualified to explain everything to young Kíli.”

“My thoughts precisely. Now if yeh don’t mind, can we borrow one of yer rooms where we can talk privately?”

“Of course. The library is a good place and I have prepared it for your, well, Mister Grey’s originally but here you are, arrival. You shan’t be disturbed there.” With that, she motioned Kíli to follow Dwalin into the library.

Once they were inside the library, Kíli shut the door carefully before turning to face Mister Dwalin. To be honest, he was still intrigued by the stranger, even though the fact that he was acquainted with Madam McGonagall and thus certainly not a murderer took away some of the mystery. The appraising gaze Mister Dwalin sent his way did not help matters either. Seeing that the older man had no intention to speak, Kíli finally broke the silence, “Would you like a cup of tea?” 

The moment the words left his mouth, Kíli almost cringed. He was turning into Miss Clearwater, who thought the only solution to any problem under the sun was a good cuppa. Mister Dwalin, however, merely chuckled, which thankfully softened his harsh features quite a bit, making him look almost indulging. Kíli’s breathing eased somewhat after this. “I'm good, laddie. But thanks. Now yeh must be wondering why I'm here.”

Before he could stop himself, Kíli blurted out, “Kinda. But I do have some idea.”

“Do yeh?” Mister Dwalin seemed amused and intrigued at the same time. “Eager, aren't we? Why don't yeh tell me what yeh know then?”

Kicking himself internally, Kíli wished he had kept his mouth shut. Now he was going to make a fool of himself in front of someone he really wanted to impress. Sensing Kíli’s discomfort, Mister Dwalin smiled encouragingly. “It’s alright, laddie. Yeh can talk to me. Nothing to be afraid of.”

Kíli returned the smile brightly before taking a deep breath and saying, “Madam McGonagall told me that I have special abilities, like superpowers, you know. It happened after my 7th birthday and I couldn't control it at first. I tried to ask her what to do but she said she wasn't like me and didn't know exactly how it works. She said that someone like me would come to explain everything once I'm 11. I've been waiting for that since then and well,” he gestured a little awkwardly, “here you are.” He chanced a glance at Mister Dwalin and found the older man fixing him with a contemplating gaze that was slightly unnerving. Kíli shifted on his feet, not sure if he'd said something stupid.

“Your ability manifested itself when you were only 7?”

Mister Dwalin’s question, however, caught Kíli somewhat off guard. He never really thought about it. Wasn't it normal (well, as normal as it could be given the circumstances) to show one's ability at that time? He supposed he really had no point of reference so maybe he was not that normal after all. But it could not be a bad thing, could it? Him showing his ability early. In any case, he nodded. “Yeah. And it wasn’t my fault!” he added hastily, just to clarify. “It just happened.”

“And yeh said yeh couldn't control it at first. Does it mean yeh can control it now? When did yeh learn to do that?”

Why did Mister Dwalin have so many questions? Shouldn't he be the one answering them instead of asking? Kíli found the whole experience quite confusing but he tried his best to contain his impatience and frustration. “Yeah, I can control it now. It took me 2 years but I don't have accidents nowadays. I can sort of channel my ability when I need it.”

Mister Dwalin’s face was hard to read and he simply said, “show me.”

This felt like the moment that Kíli had been waiting for since his 7th birthday. Casting his eyes around, Kíli saw an empty teacup sitting on top of a bookshelf, probably forgotten by one of the staff while they were organising the books. Concentrating hard, he willed the teacup to float in the air and move slowly towards him. It took all his concentration not to spill the tea left inside and he finally placed it on the desk next to him, feeling quite drained afterwards.

There was utter silence followed by Kíli’s little demonstration. Mister Dwalin’s mouth was slightly open, which Kíli took as a good sign. His magic was clearly more impressive than he had thought. When he caught Mister Dwalin’s eyes, however, the almost maniacal fervour made him stop.

If Mister Dwalin had not been a friend of Madam McGonagall, Kíli would be seriously freaked out now. It was one thing to use his power inside the orphanage; he trusted everyone here and knew he was safe. To show it to a stranger without thinking, however, was incredibly risky. How could he be so stupid? What if he was someone who wanted to study Kíli and find out how come he was so different? Now that Kíli came to think of it, Mister Dwalin said that he was a professor so he could have a laboratory where he could tie Kíli to a bench and cut him up. 

The snort of laughter coming from Mister Dwalin made Kíli realise that his thoughts must have shown itself plainly on his face. He really needed to learn to control that too. “Forgive me, laddie. I suppose I’m being a tad creepy. But here, since you’ve shown me yers, I’ll show yeh mine.” With a flick of his right wrist, a wooden stick, which Kíli assumed was a magic wand, appeared out of nowhere into Mister Dwalin’s right hand.

“Blimey!” gasped Kíli, his eyes wide as saucers. “How did you do that?”

“Just like yeh have yer own tricks, I have mine,” Mister Dwalin winked at Kíli and the youngster laughed, feeling much more at ease now. “Now that we have the teacup, all we need is a proper cuppa.” With a flick of the wand, the leftover tea in the cup vanished, leaving the cup sparklingly clean. Kíli watched in amazement as the cup was filled with hot simmering tea and floated again in mid-air towards him for him to retrieve. He shot Mister Dwalin a questioning look and the older man nodded encouragingly so he proceeded to taste the tea cautiously. It was absolutely delicious, with milk and honey and a hint of cinnamon. “Wow, this is wicked! So you don’t need to buy food or anything anymore, do you? You can just magic them out of thin air.”

“Well, not exactly,” coughed Mister Dwalin, his face (the part ono covered by his beard anyway) turning suspiciously pink. “I didn’t conjure it out of nothing. Food is the first of the five Principal Exceptions to Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration.” He added hastily upon the confused look on Kíli’s face. “Don’t worry. Yeh’ll learn it later in Hogwarts. The point is, yeh can only summon food if yeh know where they are, and I happen to frequent the kitchen often enough to know that there’s always some tea ready on Bombur’s table. I reckon he can live without one for now.”

Still, this bit of magic seemed cool to Kíli, who was eager to know more about magic. Mister Dwalin mentioned this Hogwarts again and it sounded like Kíli would go there later to learn magic. Maybe it was a university for magical folks like himself. Unable to believe his good luck, Kíli fired questions after questions at Mister Dwalin. “Where is Hogwarts? When can I go? Will I learn more magic there? How much does it cost? What other magic can you do? Where can I get a wand like yours? That is a wand, isn’t it? Can I see it?”

“Woh, slow down, lad,” laughed Mister Dwalin. “One question at a time, alright? But before I answer them, which mind yeh will take a while, I must say that I am impressed by yer magic. That was very impressive for an 11-year-old. Very few have this level of control or this much magic at such a young age, especially for a…” He stopped himself short upon Kíli’s curious look. “Anyway, yeh have great potential, laddie! I’m sure yeh’ll become a great wizard!”

Beaming brightly, Kíli puffed up his chest in pride. He wasn’t going to be an odd kid after all. He was going to be a great wizard with great power! This surely sounded like a much better prospect than an orphanage who could only afford to go to local comprehensives and probably work a menial job after. Feeling even bolder and more confident now, he blurted out the next question on his mind, “Can I see your wand?”

“Fine,” grunted Mister Dwalin, who still seemed a bit shocked from the previous event. “Now be careful. A wizard’s wand is extremely important. The wand chooses the wizard. Someone else’s wand will never work that well for yeh.”

Swallowing nervously, Kíli hesitated. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked for something so private. He had again acted recklessly and he hoped he had not offended Mister Dwalin. The older man, however, put Kíli’s doubt at ease. “It’s alright, laddie. I’m here to answer any question yeh may have about the magical world. People will forgive yeh for not knowing things. Yeh grow up with Muggles after all and people understand. Now take the wand and see for yerself.”

Kíli took the wand with both hands, not wanting to risk it, and slid his finger across the piece of wood reverently. It was long, thick and somewhat knobbly. It felt sturdy and strong, almost as if powerful magic was emanating from it. “It’s beautiful. So strong and powerful, unyielding and loyal, perfect for a warrior like you,” sighed Kíli, almost entranced. Unable to help himself, he gave the wand an experiment wave. Showers of red sparks came out, which made Kíli jump. “Oh, blimey!” He turned to Mister Dwalin to hand the wand back to him, only to find the older wizard staring at him.

“Yeh have a natural magical acuity, laddie,” Mister Dwalin looked very serious and impressed. “It is a very rare gift. Not many can sense the magic of another’s wand the way yeh do.”

“Each wand has a different kind of magic? Wow!” Kíli’s curiosity piqued again and he wondered briefly what his wand might be like. The thought itself filled him with warmth and anticipation as if he was about to meet a long lost soulmate or kin, something that would complete him.

“Naturally. The wand chooses the wizard. Each wand wood has its own properties and characteristics. Mine is blackthorn and like yeh said, it’s strong and usually best suited for warriors. My brother Balin, on the other hand, is a well-respected scholar so his wand is made of pear, for those that are warm-hearted, generous and wise. The headmaster of Hogwarts, Professor Gandalf Grey, owns an alder wand, best for non-verbal spells for the most powerful wizard. Of course, the core of the wand also matters but that is almost always predetermined by our race.”

“Race?” This was most unexpected, even more than the discovery of magic. What did race have to do with anything? Wasn't everyone supposed to be equal, regardless of the colour of their skin?

“Of course. Yeh'll probably get a wand with dragon heartstring since yeh're a half dwarf.”

“Excuse me?” Okay, Kíli knew he wasn't the tallest of the bunch but there was no need to call him a dwarf. To add insult to injury, Mister Dwalin didn't even think he was a proper dwarf. Half a dwarf?! What was that supposed to mean?

“Blimey, I keep forgetting yeh really know nothing about our world.”

“If you're trying to cheer me up,” muttered Kíli feeling really annoyed now, “you're really not doing a stellar job.”

Scratching his bald head almost helplessly, Dwalin signed, “I'm really sorry, laddie. Look, I'm really not the best with emotions and feelings and all that shite. Pardon my language. I mean, Thorin calls me a brute all the time but then again he's probably just being a grumpy little bugger himself, which is quite usual. They really should've sent someone like Gandalf or even Balin but he's still recovering from that incident with a chimaera, lost a good chunk of his leg and all. But then again, if yeh're stupid enough to help Dáin with his magical creatures, yeh probably deserve to have yer leg bitten off. Why Dáin would keep a bloody chimaera in the Forbidden Forest is simply beyond me but I reckon he's just being Dáin…”

His mouth opening slightly, Kíli stared in disbelief as Dwalin awkwardly rambled on and on, going more off the tangent by the second. His head swimming with all the new names and terms, he had to stop Dwalin before it exploded. “I'm sorry, but what?”

“Ah, right…” laughed Dwalin nervously, “I suppose that went on a bit, didn't it?” Kíli had to fight very hard not to roll his eyes. Despite his fierce gruff appearance and obviously strong magical power, Mister Dwalin seemed like a bit of a softie underneath. “Anyway, races. Yeah, there are 4 main races of witches and wizards, Dwarves, Elves, Men, and Hobbits. Each race has its own appearances, history and its own speciality in magic, hence the different wand cores. We dwarves might be short but we are hardy strong people and we're good at making things. Our strengths lie in Potions, Transfiguration, Arithmancy, and both defensive and offensive magic, which makes us great warriors. Some call us stubborn gits with horrendous manners but come on. We’re just loyal, fun-loving with a ravenous appetite. Our wands usually come with dragon heartstrings. Oh, we also grow beards, including the lasses.”

Ah, so that explains his whiskers. Kíli, however, found it hard to imagine beards in a girl, particularly an attractive one. Dwalin seemed to mistake Kíli’s confusion for insecurity. “Don't worry, laddie. Every race has its own taste in beauty. Even though dwarves prefer stout sturdy builds with spectacularly braided beards, I'm sure other races will find you attractive.”

Brilliant. Now apart from worrying about his complete lack of knowledge of the magical world, he was also hideous amongst his own people. Kíli was beginning to find this new world less exhilarating and more frightening. Partially to change the topic, he asked, “what are Hobbits?”

“Well, they're curious little creatures. They are even shorter than we are and pretty round too. But they are not warriors. They're soft mild-mannered people with a particular fondness of food. Most of them absolutely excel in Herbology. The Herbology professor in Hogwarts has always been occupied by a Hobbit, including the current one, Bilbo Baggins. Some of them can be good healers or potioneers too, you know, plant-related and such. Their wands use Phoenix feathers as the core. Oh, they also have big hairy feet, which is why they don't need shoes.”

That was indeed curious. Kíli had never met such a creature before and he was more than excited to. The one that fascinated him the most, however, were Elves.

“Elves!” Dwalin’s face twisted with a grimace that amused rather than scared Kíli. “Well, I may not be the best source since there's a bit of a feud going on between Dwarves and Elves. Nothing serious really. It's just that we are like the opposite of each other and we don't usually see eye to eye. Elves are slender, tall, the tallest race in fact, and fair-skinned. Some may regard them as beautiful and think they’re elegant and wise. I think they’re a bunch of pointy-eared tree-shagging hypocrites who're too dandy for hard work.” Kíli couldn't help but giggle at this. “Anyway, I reckon they're decent in Transfiguration, Charms, particularly the ancient ones, and fancy useless things like Astronomy and Divination. There are exceptions, of course. Our current Divination professor Nori Luinson is a dwarf. But then again, no one in their right mind would call Nori normal. Unicorn hair is the typical material for elvish wands.”

That was a lot to take in and Kíli felt like his mind was working overload to absorb all the new information. He surely hoped the race Men was not that different. “Right. So just Men left. Are they more or less like regular folks we see every day, apart from the magic bit, of course?”

“Aye. They are probably the most versatile race but it also means they don't really specialise in any particular branch of magic. In fact, I wouldn't call them particularly magical. Men you see, originate from non-magical folks, Muggles as we call them. They only have magical abilities because, at some point in their bloodline, they have some magical blood by marriages with other magical beings, mostly elves. Some have wizard ancestors all the way to the Middle Ages and they consider themselves pretty much Pureblood. Others come from all Muggle families and they are called Muggle-borns, though they’re definitely a minority. But of course, the magical world is full of surprises and exceptions. Look at our Headmaster Gandalf Grey and the Minister for Magic Mister Saruman White, two of the most powerful wizards of our time and both are Men. Actually, I don’t know if you can call them Men. Both have lived for more than 300 years and I certainly don’t know where their magical blood comes from. Like Hobbits, most Men use phoenix feathers for their wands.”

The marriage between races piqued Kíli’s interest more than the obscure lineage of some wizards he did not know. From Dwalin’s description, it sounded like the magical races did not mingle with each other and had rather low opinions of the other races. Fascinating the magical world might be, he certainly liked the Muggle world better in this regard, where everyone was considered equal (by all the sane people at least) and was encouraged to choose whichever profession they fancied. “Are there many mixed marriages in the magical world? What will those of mixed blood look like? What kind of wands do they use?”

“Honestly they are not that common nowadays. There used to be a time when that was the norm, where magical beings co-mingle with the Muggles, which gave rise to the race of Man really. The look and wand core depend on which side the kid takes after more. Most of the half-bloods are Man/Elf mixes. But then, we also have yeh, a Man/Dwarf mix. This is why yeh are taller and leaner than a dwarf and your beard is nothing to speak of.”

“Thanks,” muttered Kíli grumpily. “So was my mum or dad a Dwarf? Do you know them well?”

“Aye, we were in Hogwarts together. Yer dad, Frerin Durin, was the Dwarf and a brilliant wizard, one of the best I had ever met. Fantastic at Transfiguration and practically fearsome in Defence Against Dark Arts. A nice lad too, always cheerful, always up for a good laugh. Yeh look almost exactly like him, except the eyes. He had eyes blue as the sky. Yeh’ve got your mother’s eyes. Melian was a real beauty by all standards, tall and graceful with her long auburn curls and beautiful dark eyes. Yer dad was absolutely smitten with her the moment they met. It took him 3 years before he finally managed to stop turning into a concussed duck in her presence. We used to take the mickey out of him, poor lad.” The nostalgic smile on Dwalin’s face filled Kíli with warmth. “Yer mum was a great witch, especially considering she was not only a Man but also a Muggle-born. She was an exceptional potioneer and great at Charms. But more than that, she was kind, understanding, and open-minded. Nobody really expected them to end up together because yeh just don’t see a Dwarf marrying a Man, like ever. But they loved each other very much and stayed together against all odds, until the very end. I miss them so much and I can see both of them in yeh, laddie.” Dwalin’s voice finally broke.

Tears streamed down his face and Kíli felt a lump in his throat, unable to speak. Nobody had ever told him about his parents until now and finally, after all these years, he got to know a little bit more about them. He tried to picture his dad, an almost replica of him, only shorter and stouter, with a merry smile and a twinkle of mischief in his sky blue eyes, and his mum, tall and beautiful, with his eyes and always a kind smile full of love and wisdom. How every time they looked at each other, the love in their eyes was so painfully evident. How they must have loved him, the union of their love for each other. He simply could not stop the tears.

“Here, laddie,” Dwalin shoved a handkerchief into Kíli’s hand and patted him in a comforting manner, “I’m really sorry, for everything. They both deserved to live and yeh deserve a much happier childhood with them.”

The kind words finally broke Kíli. Forgoing all sense of propriety, he threw himself into Dwalin’s arms, sobbing into his broad chest. He could feel the older dwarf froze for a second before he relaxed and wrapped his arms around Kíli’s smaller frame, rubbing Kíli’s back with his large hand. Kíli had no idea how long this went on, but it was Dwalin’s singing that finally stopped his tears.

It was a beautiful, slightly sad but extremely soulful song in a language Kíli did not know. Dwalin’s voice was deep and hypnotising and Kíli found himself mesmerised not only by the voice but also by the magic emanating from it. He definitely wouldn’t call it cheerful, but it felt powerful and strangely calming.

“It’s in Khuzdûl, the ancient dwarf language with magical powers. Yeh’ve felt it, haven’t yeh?” Dwalin smiled proudly at Kíli. “Yeh can learn it in Hogwarts, once yeh are in yer third year.”

“When can I go to Hogwarts? Do I have to finish university first or will secondary school be enough?”

“Merlin’s beard, I haven’t told yeh the most important bit!” cried Dwalin, thumping his head against the nearby bookshelf with such force that it shook violently before collapsing onto the floor, sending books flying everywhere.

Kíli jumped. This was not happening! How was he supposed to fix the bookshelf? They really could not afford a new one! How did this one break so easily? Speaking of breaking, his gaze slowly turned to Dwalin’s head.

“Galloping gargoyles!” groaned Dwalin. “Sorry about that. I forget how strong I can be sometimes. Oh, don’t worry,” he added hastily upon the shocked and concerned look on Kíli’s face, “a Dwarf’s head is extremely strong. In fact, a headbutt is one of the traditional Dwarvish greetings, especially amongst siblings and fellow warriors.” Touching his head surreptitiously, Kíli hoped that nobody would expect him to engage in such activities. His skull certainly did not feel strong enough to survive one and he would probably be laughed silly if he managed to get a concussion from saying hello.

Thankfully, Dwalin was a wizard so he could fix the problem he created with a flick of the wand. “Ah, this looks better. Now Hogwarts!” He turned to Kíli and rummaged through his cloak to find a slightly crumpled letter. “Here, it’s yer acceptance letter. Yeh laddie are going to Hogwarts on the 1st of September.”

“This year?” cried Kíli in astonishment as he accepted the letter with numb fingers.

“Aye,” chuckled Dwalin fondly. “Yeh’ve been kept away from yer heritage and the magical world for too long. It’s time we welcome yeh back, young Kíli, son of Frerin.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to visit Diagon Alley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully I did a decent job mixing Harry Potter and LoTR world-building together. I had a good time doing it though so I guess that's what matters lol.

The letter was written in two pages of thick parchment paper and Kíli could not help but touch them in awe. It felt heavy on his hands but he was not sure if it was the weight of the parchment or his anticipation. The first page was short and to the point.

_ HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY  _

_ Headmaster: Gandalf Grey  _

_ (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)  _

  
  


_ Dear Mister Kíli Durin,  _

_ We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  _

_ Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.  _

  
  


_ Yours sincerely,  _

_ Galadriel Lothlórien  _

_ Deputy Headmistress* _

“We need to send the reply today!” cried Kíli when he saw the last line of instruction. 31 July was the next day and he had no idea how long it would take to send a post to Hogwarts. Did the postman even know where to post the letter?

Dwalin, however, merely chuckled. “No worries, laddie. I’ll just send a message to Gandalf. It’ll take Grasper less than half a day to get to Hogwarts.”

“Grasper?”

“My raven. Wizards use ravens or owls to send posts. Dwarves always prefer ravens since we can talk to them and yeh can’t do that with owls. Only a select few such as Dáin and Radagast can talk to many magical creatures. Or at least I think they could,” mused Dwalin. “They could be having us on, now that I come to think of it. Both of them are a bit bonkers and they never make much sense so it’s really hard to tell.”

Kíli blinked. So far, everyone Dwalin had ever mentioned, except his mum and maybe his dad, sounded a tad touched in the head. Were all wizards like that? Before he could dwell on the matter though, he was utterly distracted when Dwalin pulled a little sleeping raven out of his dark-green travelling cloak. It certainly did not appreciate being awoken so unceremoniously and clucked its beak reproachfully at Dwalin, who muttered, “Lazy spoilt bird. Come on, time to move yer fat arse. Listen carefully, here’s the message.” He then proceeded to communicate with his raven in that foreign language he used for singing. The little raven listened with an unimpressed look, if ravens could look unimpressed that is, before pecking Dwalin’s bald head somewhat affectionately and taking off. Fascinated by their interaction, Kíli piped up eagerly, “will I be able to talk to ravens after I learn,” he struggled with the pronunciation, “Khuzdûl, is it?”

“Aye,” groaned Dwalin. “But ravens are tricky birds and very hard to tame. It took me ages and almost two disabled hands to tame Grasper and Keeper. They’re very clever birds though and very loyal. Once yeh’ve tamed them, they’ll understand basic instructions in English so that even if yeh can’t communicate with them, yeh can still use them to send letters and such.”

How wonderful would it be to have a pet that could communicate with you! Growing up in an orphanage meant that resources were limited and luxuries such as pets were impossible. The excitement must have been obvious on Kíli’s face as Dwalin chuckled fondly and said, “Don’t get ahead of yerself, laddie. We’ve still got a lot to do. Actually, we better get going now. Yeh’ve got tons of things to buy in Diagon Alley and we haven’t got all day. Take yer letter with ya. The second page is just a list of items yeh’ll need and we can go over them on our way there.”

Surprisingly, they took the tube instead of any magical means of transport. Kíli was slightly disappointed so Dwalin explained, “I could have taken yeh in Side-Along Apparation but trust me, yeh didn’t miss much. Most get queasy during the first several times and there’s always the risk of splinching. Some have to do it because they live in other parts of the country. A disaster for both the staff and the poor Muggle-born lads. Lucky yeh’re in London and Diagon Alley is only a couple stops away.”

“So every student gets a staff member to deliver the letter?”

“Blimey no! We haven’t got enough staff to do that. Besides, nobody in their right mind would put Nori or Dáin to the job. Nah, it’s only for Muggle-born lads and lasses or anyone who grows up in the Muggle world. Yeh need someone to explain things properly to yeh or yeh’ll think it’s just a big practical joke or something. Most parents still do mind. For the magical kids, they just get the letter from owl or raven posts.”

“Are there many Muggle-born kids every year?” Kíli was nervous and more than a little self-conscious. While all the novelty of the magical world was absolutely fascinating, it was also terrifying. What if he’s the worst in his class? What if everyone knows things he doesn’t? What if nobody likes him because he grew up in the Muggle world?

“Not as many as it used to be.” The good humour was gone and Dwalin looked grave. “We have noticed the decline of the number of Muggle-born students and even of the level of magic in younger kids. Some say it’s because more wizards are marrying Muggles and diluting their magical blood. I don’t know if I buy that. But people are certainly less tolerant of the mixing of blood, especially when yeh have more Squibs from half Muggle kids.”

“Squibs?”

“Ah, Squibs are like the opposite of Muggle-borns. They have magical parentage, which means they should be wizards, except they’re not. They have no magical abilities and have to live as Muggles. Nobody really knows what the cause of Squibs is. Could be a, what do yeh call it in Muggle term, generic mutation or something?”

“Genetic mutation. It means your gene, or as you call it, blood, changed unexpectedly when you were born.” Kíli beamed, feeling happy that for the first time he knew something that Dwalin didn’t. His happiness, however, was short-lived, “When you said earlier that my magic was powerful especially for a… Were you meant to say half-Muggle? Are we being frowned upon in the magical world?”

Dwalin twisted his beard uncomfortably, which soon got it into a dead knot. “Damn. Sorry, laddie,” He looked apologetic, “Look, I’m not going to sugarcoat things for yeh. Yeh’ll probably have a harder time at Hogwarts than a Dwarf lad or an Elf. People will make assumptions about yeh and some may not be nice. But yeh get dunderheads who can’t think for themselves everywhere, don’t ya? And yeh will find decent folks to be friends with inside Hogwarts. I know a couple of Dwarf lads who’s starting Hogwarts this year and they’re all exceptional kids who don’t give a toss about that kind of stupid prejudice. In the end, it’s all down to ya, Kíli. As I said, yer magic is powerful and yeh have great potential. Yeh can be whoever yeh want to be. Don’t ever let people’s prejudice stop ya or bring yeh down.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The tube ride only took them 15 minutes. Kíli soon found themselves in front of a small, grubby-looking pub, which blended in so perfectly with the background that Kíli would not have noticed it had Dwalin not pointed it out. In fact, Kíli got a funny feeling that only he and Dwalin could see it.

“Afternoon, Dwalin!” The red-haired Dwarf behind the bar had a funny hairdo and his face lit up immediately upon seeing Dwalin. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Nori, yeh old dog!” Barked Dwalin with laughter as he strode across the pub to give Nori a headbutt over the bar. “Earning some extra gold during the school holidays?”

“Aye. We all need to find ways to occupy ourselves, don’t we? A little hard-earned gold never hurt anybody.”

“True, true,” chuckled Dwalin before he turned back to Kíli. “Now Kíli, this is Professor Nori Luinson. He teaches Divination at Hogwarts, and er, does some odd jobs here and there during the summer holidays. Nori, this is…”

“By my beard,” cried Nori as he was in front of Kíli in a matter of seconds, taking in Kíli’s features, “You must be Frerin and Melian’s baby boy! Blimey, you look just like your dad and you’ve got Melian’s eyes!”

“Thank you, Professor Luinson,” blushed Kíli, his heart swelling with pride and warmth for his close resemblance to his parents. “I’m delighted to make your acquaintance.”

Nori, however, was having none of Kíli’s politeness. “Relax, laddie. Just Nori is fine,” his eyes were mischievous but warm and his smile was disarmingly casual. Kíli could not help but return it, feeling much more relaxed. “Are you excited about Hogwarts? My baby brother is starting this year too so I’m sure he’ll keep you company. At Hogwarts, of course, you are supposed to call me Professor or Sir but I personally don’t give a toss about it. But please no Professor Luinson. It makes me sound like my fussy older brother Dori. He’s the librarian at Hogwarts, you see, and he’s very particular about titles, rules, and all that rubbish. If you don’t address him properly, he’ll send books chasing after you until they bite your arse.”

His eyes wide in shock, Kíli’s hands instinctively flew to protect his very precious bottom, which got Dwalin and Nori roaring in laughter. Feeling a bit put out by their teasing, Kíli pouted and Dwalin laughed. “Sorry, lad. Nori’s a bit of a joker. Don’t take him too seriously. Nobody does anyway.” He gave Nori a good-natured shove and the other gasped and clutched his heart in pretend pain. “You break my heart, my great warrior! How can you say and do such things?”

“Cut it out, yeh idiot. Not on Kíli’s first day back!”

“Fine,” sighed Nori dramatically and Kíli giggled at his antics. “Anything for you, my brave soldier. You don’t need to worry about young Kíli though. With that face of his and his puppy eyes, he’ll have everyone wrapped around his little fingers in no time.” With that, he actually winked at Kíli, which made Kíli’s face heat up so fast that he feared he might self-combust on the spot.

Shaking his head in half exasperation, half amusement, Dwalin ordered two sandwiches takeout. “Yeh don’t mind having lunch on the go, do yeh? We’re really short on time.” Kíli shook his head and they walked to the backyard of the pub. Kíli watched in amazement as Dwalin drew out his wand to tap several bricks on a wall, which, after some very loud and laborious movements, transformed into a large archway that led to a long twisted cobble street. Grinning widely at the astounded look on Kíli’s face, Dwalin said with a little bow, “Welcome to Diagon Alley. After you, laddie.”

It was unbelievable, a whole street filled with witches and wizards and magical shops of all sorts. Owls and ravens were flying around, hooting and calling happily. Strangely-coloured smokes came out of a shop called Prince’s Potions. Amanuensis Quills’ window had quills with features of all sorts of flamboyant colours. Noises from a shop called Magical Menagerie were so loud that it could be heard even above the din of the street and Kíli soon spotted a crab-like creature scuttling out of the shop, breathing fire on its way to freedom while a clerk of the shop chased after it, waving his wand frantically. There were so many shops to see that Kíli wished he could spend a whole week here just to explore.

Then there were the people walking around him, which were almost as fascinating as the magical shops. Thanks to Dwalin’s description, Kíli thought he could recognise the different races quite easily. The tallest of them all was most likely the Elves. With their pointed ears, slender build, long sleek hair, fair smooth skin, a serene expression, and natural grace and elegance with their every movement, they simply looked divine. In fact, Kíli would almost swear that they emanated some kind of silvery light from their persons, which had Kíli mesmerised. That was until a loud pointed cough from Dwalin finally brought him back to the present.

“Stupid woodland sprites,” grunted Dwalin. “Look at their blokes, thinner and frailer than the scrawniest Dwarf lasses. A proper lad should be broad-shouldered, muscular, and strong. How could a lass trust her life and virtue in a lad’s hands when he looks like he could be bent in half easily with just one pat on the back?”

“Will they?” asked Kíli curiously. The elves certainly seemed delicate. The last thing he wanted was to accidentally cause them any harm by being too forceful.

“Unfortunately, no,” scowled Dwalin. “They are, well, not as weak as they look,” he admitted begrudgingly. “Not to mention they are half decent at certain areas of magic so it does take some effort to better them in a duel. But still…”

The slightly shorter ones must be the Men. They looked quite similar to the Elves, just a tad broader and not as perfect. Their ears looked like the ordinary ones and they appeared much livelier than the Elven lot, which Kíli instantly liked. He was never one for the subdued spirit and even though the Elves’ reserved and tranquil nature inspired awe in him, it could not rouse the same fondness and affinity as a vibrant spirit. 

Even more exuberant than the Men were the Dwarves. Their loud laughs and head bumps could be heard from a mile away. Despite Dwalin’s description, Kíli was still shocked to see Dwarflings running around like huge balls of energy, looking almost as stout as Dwalin, though not as strong, and sprouting quite an impressive display of beards. Even the girls dressed in the pretty dresses had carefully braided beards with fine jewels. Some of them eyed Kíli with hardly-concealed interest, making Kíli feeling awfully self-conscious. He now understood by what Dwalin meant that his looks would never be considered attractive by a Dwarf. How could he be when the lasses looked stronger and displayed more beautiful beards than his sorry whiskers? A perfectly handsome Dwarf should probably look like Dwalin so Kíli was not surprised by the excited giggles and the sneak looks sent Dwalin’s way from the pretty lasses. 

Dwalin, however, was completely immune to all the attention he had gathered from his admirers. His own attention was bestowed on a short soft-looking little thing with big hairy feet. Ah, that must be the Hobbit. 

“Afternoon, Bilbo!” Dwalin boomed as he waved happily at the Hobbit, who stopped, turned around, and flashed a big smile at Dwalin.

“Dwalin!” cried Bilbo. “How nice to see you! What brings you to Diagon Alley on this fine day? I thought you’d be busy helping young Fíli get ready for Hogwarts, seeing that Thorin most likely won’t do his job.”

“Nah,” chuckled Dwalin as he clasped a surprisingly gentle hand on Bilbo’s shoulder, “Thorin might be thick as a whale omelette when it comes to wizards interaction but Fíli’s got Dís. I’m here to help young Kíli Durin. Yeh remember his parents, Melian and Frerin?”

“Of course!” beamed Bilbo and he extended a hand to Kíli. “I remember your dad vividly. Quite a troublemaker with a bit of a reputation. Extremely bright but always messing around. It seemed that he only sobered up in your mum’s presence, who was the sweetest girl I’ve ever met. You do look a lot like them.”

“Thank you,” smiled Kíli, feeling almost shy. His parents did sound very popular and he felt that he had a lot to live up to. “And you are?”

“Oh blast, where are my manners? I’m Bilbo Baggins, the Herbology professor at Hogwarts.”

“Told ya,” interjected Dwalin proudly, “Hobbits are brilliant at Herbology. The plants just seem to like them while they prefer chasing us around in the greenhouse.”

“That’s because you idiots never know how to handle them properly,” chided Bilbo mildly, “You treat them like they are dark objects ready to be destroyed. Can you blame them for fighting back?”

“Sure, take the Whomping Willow’s side,” mumbled Dwalin. “Can you really blame us for defending ourselves against a mental deadly lashing bloody tree?”

“Be glad that my wand is from the regular willow,” Bilbo’s eyes narrowed and his soft benign face suddenly looked dangerous, “Or I’ll give you a good thrashing with it.” When he turned to Kíli though, his smile was more than kind and encouraging. “Don’t worry, kid. Not all plants are dangerous and I would never let any students get hurt. You look a lot more sensible than this big brute so I’m sure you’ll do fine. You can find me anytime you need in Hogwarts and I’ll always have tea ready for you.”

Had it not been the busy schedule they were on, Kíli would love to spend more time with Bilbo. He had taken quite a liking to the small Hobbit, who had been so kind and considerate that he could sense Kíli’s insecurity beneath his brave and excited exterior. More importantly, he offered to help even though they barely knew each other. Unfortunately, they were pressed for time and Dwalin had to drag him away to the most impressive building in Diagon Alley.

“Erebor,” said Dwalin in a reverent tone, “the Wizard’s bank. The safest place in the wizarding world and run by Dwarves.”

The building was indeed breathtakingly majestic. It was shaped almost like a mountain and was certainly tall enough to be one as it towered over all the other buildings in Diagon Alley. The large stone walls at the front had intricately-carved doors and windows. The front door was massive with two giant statues, which were made entirely out of gold, of fierce-looking Dwarf warriors standing on each side, guarding the entrance proudly. People filed in and out of the door all the time, indicating the thriving business of the place. Though it was impressive and perfectly regal, Kíli still found it hard to comprehend Dwalin’s reverence. It was, after all, just a building.

“The name Erebor meant so much for Dwarves. It was where the oldest and strongest Dwarf Kingdom was at. It was the home of all homes for Dwarves, the most sacred place of all. Our ancestors had fought countless battles to defend it, retake it, and rebuild it. Those stories live throughout the ages and have become legends of our culture. It is part of who we are.”

Now this made more sense to Kíli, but still, it was just a name. Was he missing it because he did not grow up as a dwarf? “But this Erebor is not the old Erebor, is it? Or is it built at the same place?”

“Ah, of course, yeh don’t know the history of this place,” nodded Dwalin with understanding. “Dwarves, yeh see, have been a race with particular skills in mining, crafting, and numbers, which most of the magical folks are rubbish at. The post of Arithmancy professor at Hogwarts has always been occupied by a Dwarf. No other race has been as good at safeguarding, accumulating, and proliferating treasures as we do. Naturally, yeh find us to be the perfect ones to run a bank and so we have, until 30 years ago. Thorin Oakenshield, one of my closest friends and a fellow professor of Potions at Hogwarts, came from one of the most ancient Dwarf families that owns the most shares and runs Erebor, except it was called Gringotts at the time. Thorin has been groomed to be the heir to the family business, except that when he was barely a teenager, Gringotts was taken from us by the Goblins with the help of dragons. So many Dwarves had died and the rest were driven out of Gringotts, homeless and penniless.”

“Goblins, dragons?” cried Kíli.

“Yes, goblins and dragons,” nodded Dwalin gravely. “Come on, let’s take a seat. This might take a while but it’s worth it. Yeh need to know our history, yer history.” He plumped down on a seat next to an ice cream shop called Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour and ordered two giant ice creams for them. “One thing yeh need to know about the Wizarding world, laddie, is that there is evil in our world, great terrible evil. I guess this is the case for every society and every world but we have been living under its most recent threat for almost 50 years. An extremely powerful wizard, or at least I think he’s a wizard because I’ve never seen anyone with that amount of magic, has turned so evil that he became the Dark Lord some 200 years ago. Yes,” he nodded at the astounded look on Kíli’s face, “nobody knows how he manages it but he’s still alive after all this time. But anyway, as you can probably imagine, the Light side fights valiantly against him and they have managed to thwart him a couple of times before. Still, he has not been eradicated and his power not completely diminished. After several years of peace, he would regain his strength and we would start another round of fighting against him. The most recent dark period started 50 years ago. Gradually, darkness in the world grew, this time, stronger than ever. With dark power came stronger evil creatures. Goblins, Orcs, and Trolls are those creatures of evil. Nobody really knows their origin anymore but according to some legends, they were Men and Elves turned evil at the beginning of time. They are foul despicable things that bask in darkness, cruelty, and death.”

Kíli gasped. This was unheard of in the Muggle world. Of course, there are people who come from a less ideal background, making them more susceptible to crimes later in life. The consensus, however, is that people make their own choices. “So there are no good Goblins, Orcs, or Trolls? Not even one?”

Dwalin shook his head dismissively. “Of course not. It’s in their blood. I never understand why Gandalf admits them into Hogwarts. Total waste of time if yeh ask me. Most of them don’t bother, mind. They prefer to teach their own sprogs their terrible dark magic at home but you can bet that they are always out there, biding their time. When the Dark Lord regained his power 50 years ago, those horrid creatures grew in numbers and strength until finally, they took Gringotts, just like how they took Erebor so many years ago. It was dark times, Kíli. We suffered so much because we were short on resources and feared for the lives of our loved ones. I reckon that’s why our generation grew up tougher than most, sometimes bitter even. Thorin, in particular, took it hard. He lost both his parents and grandparents to the Orcs and Goblins and he lost his family home. The only one he has left is his younger sister Dís and they tried their best to survive. But Thorin and Dís are strong, stronger than any evil forces and they had never stopped their dreams to take back what was rightfully theirs. Both of them joined the fight against the Dark Lord and both were, and still are, fierce formidable warriors, wielding almost identical walnut wands. I fought with them, as well as your parents. It took us so many years and countless lives until finally, shortly after you were born, Thorin and Dís led the Dwarves to defeat the Goblins and the dragons and took back Gringotts. It was such a huge blow to the Dark Lord that soon he was defeated once again, hence the current temporary peace. Once Thorin had reclaimed Gringotts, he renamed it Erebor, after our ancient home that was once taken by Goblins and later won back. He welcomed all its previous residents back with open arms and rebuilt it to its former glory. He even tamed some dragons to protect the treasure inside Erebor and erected the statues of his father and grandfather on either side, standing guard against their most beloved home. The symbolic meaning of this place can never be overstated.”

Now Kíli finally understood what Erebor meant to every single Dwarf. For the very first time in his life, he felt so proud of his roots, of belonging to such an unwaveringly brave group of people. He was going to make them proud. He was going to be a true Dwarf.

Before they could go into Erebor though, Kíli had to voice his concern. “Do I have enough money to go to Hogwarts? I mean, the orphanage certainly won’t be able to pay for that, not to mention I’ll feel really bad if they do.”

“Yeh’re covered, laddie,” smiled Dwalin. “Yer dad did leave you something. Not a lot, mind yeh. Most of the Dwarf families lost their fortune in the last Wizarding War against the Dark Lord. Yer family vault still has some gold left only because yer dad came from one of the oldest and prestigious Dwarf families. Of course, most of the Dwarves regained their fortune after the war but unfortunately for yeh, neither yer parents had that opportunity. Oh, don’t worry,” he added hastily upon the concerned look on Kíli’s face, “Hogwarts will provide yeh with anything else yeh’ll need if yer money does run out later. We have a fund for that. It just means that yeh may need to buy some of yer stuff like books and robes second-handed.”

It was not that Kíli minded using second-hand things. After all, he grew up in an orphanage where funding was always tight and any money they had always went into food and medicine. Kíli grew up on clothes and shoes passed down to him from older kids. Yet back in the orphanage, all the kids lived like that. He was never different. If anything, he sometimes got extra treats from the caretakers because he was quite a few people’s favourites. Even in the primary school where he was amongst other kids from more well-off families, he still had his friends from the orphanage to keep him company. This time, however, he would be on his own, thrust into a new world he had absolutely no clue about. As if this was not frightening enough already, he was a half-blood and might be the only one showing up in tattered robes and second-hand books, which would surely make him stand out like a sore thumb. The idea filled him with dread. But there was nothing to be done about it. Kíli composed himself and tried to look at things on the bright side. At least he still had some money, which meant that he could probably get all the key things such as his wand brand new. He was never one to pay too much attention to his appearance anyway so he doubted he would really feel bad about wearing old clothes. Most importantly, he was going to Hogwarts to be a great wizard that would make his parents proud. He certainly would not let some stupid old robes and books stand in his way.

The ride to Kíli’s family vault of Erebor had been exciting and fun. Kíli had never been on a roller coaster before but he expected it would not have felt more thrilling than this, except it was all underground. The little cart operated by an Erebor Dwarf zigged and zagged around the labyrinthine stone tunnels to dive deep into the heart of Erebor, sometimes dropping 100 feet at a time. Kíli shrieked with laughter and excitement while poor Dwalin looked a little green at the end of the ride.

“Bloody stupid cart,” grumbled Dwalin before he rushed to the side to be thoroughly sick.

What Dwalin had said about Kíli’s family fortune turned out to be quite true. In the Durin vault, there was a very small pile of gold, a slightly bigger pile of silver, and then a decent sized pile of bronze. What Kíli did not expect, however, was to spot several precious heirlooms and he wondered how long they had been in the family.

“This was yer father’s favourite bead, made of pure gold,” Dwalin had finally re-emerged in the vault, still looking a bit queasy. “They looked so dashing on his long beard. We put them back here after, well, yeh know.” He stopped awkwardly and looked around before spotting something else that he recognised. “Ah, I remember this one too. Yer father made it as the engagement gift to yer mother, a beautiful ruby necklace with mithril chains. It’s worth quite a fortune for mithril is extremely rare these days. Oh, it’s a magical metal that is stronger yet lighter and more malleable than others. Extremely responsive to magic. Some even go as far as to say that mithril absorbs magic cast upon them and uses that to protect its owner. I don’t know if I buy it but in any case, they are so rare that you can only find them amongst the oldest family heirlooms.”

Honestly, Kíli did not care how much these were worth or how scarce they were. The only important thing for him was that his parents used to wear them. He picked up the necklace, trying to picture his father’s large thick hand waving his wand, shaping the stone and metal with all his heart and love poured into it. He could see his mother, so beautiful with long hair matching the colour of the ruby, wearing it proudly in her chest because it was the gift from her love. And the beads. Did his mother braid her father’s hair and beard before putting the beads on every morning and take them out every night so she could comb his hair and massage his temple with loving fingers to relax him after a long of work and fighting? He felt his vision blurred and only then realised that tears had been streaking down his cheek. He had never felt so close to his parents before.

After checking with Dwalin, Kíli took out about a quarter of his vault value but the older Dwarf assured him again that it was all necessary. “Yeh need to buy yer wand, yer first cauldron, and scale. Once yeh’ve got them, yeh don’t need to spend the money again. Well, unless yeh melt yer cauldron or blow up yer scale. Hmm, just try not to do that, laddie, and yeh’ll be fine.”

Brilliant, thought Kíli slightly hysterically. Now he had to worry about not to accidentally destroy his prized possessions, and probably himself in the process, too! From what he had heard about Hogwarts, it sounded like a very dangerous and accident-prone place and Dwalin’s try-not-to-do-it advice was not exactly helpful. Ignoring his foreboding, he followed Dwalin around excitedly to get all his supplies for Hogwarts, which Dwalin insisted on buying brand new so they lasted longer.

The second-hand robes and books were not as bad as Kíli had thought. True, none of them looked shiny or flashy, but they were in passable conditions. The robes had no patches on them and the books’ bindings were still intact. In fact, Kíli had quite a fun time at the second-hand bookshop, reading doodles and notes on old textbooks until he picked ones with the most interesting and useful information. Despite all his previous concern about time, Dwalin still indulged Kíli’s little game in the bookshop before they left for the last and most exciting thing to buy, the magical wand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Reference: Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, by J.K. Rowling


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diagon Alley time, with a little of information about Kíli's parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am fully aware that orphanages can sometimes be quite horrendous places that can be a traumatic experience for many orphans. But for the sake of the story (and because I like Kíli too much to let him have a terrible childhood), I'll take some artistic licence in the regard.

The moment Kíli set foot in Ollivander’s, his whole body felt as it came alive. The store was dark with dim windows that even the brightest sunlight could not penetrate. The walls were lined with shelves stacked full of long boxes. He could feel the magic of the wands in them as if they were calling him, each distinct yet all powerful in its own way. Some felt calm and soothing while others felt powerful and invigorating. Yet none of them felt, well, right. Kíli had no idea how he knew it but he could tell that his wand was not amongst them. 

Before he could spend more time trying to sense the magic of all the wands, an old wizard with long white hair and pale eyes came to greet them from the back of the store. He must be a Man, for he was quite tall and thin yet did not possess the ethereal quality of an Elf. 

“Ah, Mister Ollivander,” Dwalin saw the wandmaker too and stepped up to make the introduction. “We’re here to buy the first wand of young Mister…”

“Kíli Durin,” said Mister Ollivander in a soft and almost dreamlike voice. On second thought, Kíli wondered if maybe Mister Ollivander did have some Elf blood. “I remember it as if it were yesterday when your parents came to buy their first wands. Frerin was chosen by a cypress wand with dragon heartstring, one for the brave, the bold and the self-sacrificing. How fitting it was and it could not have chosen a better master. Excellent for Transfiguration and Defence Against Dark Arts, it had won your father many duels, even against the most formidable foes.”

“He had certainly bettered me in duels,” chuckled Dwalin, “only when I’m pissed though.”

“A Blackthorn wand is a natural warrior,” nodded Mister Ollivander, “combined with the dragon heartstring and your magical prowess, you make a terrifying duo for your enemies.” He turned back to Kíli. “Your mother’s wand, however, was quite different in temperament. Laurel wand with phoenix feather, it was only for those who are most honourable and hardworking. No wonder it chose Melian. Now, it is time for you to be chosen by your perfect one, your other half in magic.”

This sounded almost romantic to Kíli and he could feel the excitement only matched when he saw his first crush, a beautiful girl called Fleur who was a couple of years older than him. He had no idea how this process worked though. It sounded like he had very little say in the matter while the wand was going to do all the work and make all the decisions.

“Don’t worry, laddie,” said Dwalin in a soothing tone when he saw the nervous look on Kíli’s face. “The wand will know if yeh’re the right fit and so will ya. It’s a most peculiar feeling. Kind of hard to describe really but the moment yeh hold yer one, yeh know that it is right. Until then, just keep trying all the wands Mister Ollivander hands ya.”

“But I already know that none of them here is right, not the ones in this room at least,” said Kíli, genuinely puzzled. Was his feeling completely off? Why bother going through all the wands when he knew they needed to dig deeper. Suddenly a horrible thought occurred to him. What if he couldn’t find a right wand? What if none of the wands in the room wanted him because there was something wrong with him, such as being a half Dwarf half Man? Could he still be a wizard and go to Hogwarts without a wand, or would he have to go back to the orphanage and live as a Muggle from now on?

Neither of the adults seemed aware of Kíli’s internal fear, for they were both too preoccupied with Kíli’s earlier admission. “What do you mean you know none of them is right?” frowned Dwalin. “Nobody knows until they touch the wand.”

“I just…” Kíli blinked, even more confused than before. Why were they asking him such things when they were supposed to be the expert in magic and wands? Was this some kind of test he had to pass in order to gain a wand, to prove that he was worthy? “I felt their power when I entered this room. They all feel different but none of them feels right. I’m sorry but I don’t know where mine is.”

“Merlin’s beard,” cried Mister Ollivander softly, “you have a rare gift, Mister Durin, a gift that wandmakers would kill for.”

This came as a shock. Kíli had never been particularly good at anything. He was alright at most subjects at school to be fair. Gifted, however, was not a word usually reserved for him. It was comforting to hear, however, thought Kíli in relief. Still, he had no idea why or even what this meant. “What is this gift and why do I have it?”

“You possess the Sense,” said Mister Ollivander while Dwalin made a noise of recognition. “It is similar to the Sight possessed by Seers, except that instead of seeing the future, you have the ability to Sense magic close to you, be it of magical beings or objects. Naturally, it is a skill most coveted by wandmakers. But even more importantly, it will allow you to have better control of your own magical abilities. Now it doesn't necessarily increase your magical limit, but you shall be able to maximise your potential like no one else can.”

“That explains a lot,” nodded Dwalin, his eyes lighting up excitedly. “Kíli has exceptional control over his magic already, which is almost unheard of for someone at such a young age.” He turned to Kíli with a warm proud smile, “This is indeed a most precious gift. Yeh are extremely fortunate, my young friend.”

“But I can’t sense any of your magic yet,” said Kíli, feeling that he should be honest even though he hated to disappoint them. “Maybe I haven’t got the full deal?”

“Nah, don’t ya worry, laddie.” Dwalin waved his concern away airily. “This kind of gift needs honing too. Nobody is born a powerful wizard without putting some serious effort. The fact yeh have the gift simply means that yeh have the possibility of having all its power, while others can never achieve that no matter how hard they try. Now don’t get me wrong, great wizards can still sense magic in others and magical objects with or without the Sense. But they can’t do it like yeh do, as if it is a natural part of ya. They have to rely on spells and wands. This is true for most of the special magical gifts. But if yeh don’t work on it, if yeh get lazy and complacent, yeh may never realise its full potential. So be patient. Yeh look like a hardworking lad so I’m sure yeh’ll be able to do what yeh want with yer gift one day.”

Excitement filled Kíli. He understood what Dwalin was trying to say now. It was like having great potential in football, which means that you could be a great footballer one day if you work really hard but it certainly is no guarantee. To some extent, Kíli felt quite reassured by the fact that he had to earn his power, rather than be born with it. The latter felt oddly wrong and frankly unreal, as surely something so freely granted could be taken away just as easily. Though he still did not understand what he needed to do to hone his skills, as neither Dwalin nor Mister Ollivander could tell him, Kíli vowed to find out the moment he got to Hogwarts. He was blessed with a rare gift and he shall not squander it.

The next batch of wands Mister Ollivander brought out were from the backroom of the shop, the ones Kíli had not Sensed. “I usually keep the trickier ones at the back,” explained Mister Ollivander. “They are much more selective and very hard to master. Yet I feel that in your case, this might be exactly what you need.”

Nodding, Kíli turned his attention to the new boxes of wands. Their magic was harder to Sense, some rather weak while others were completely absent. It seemed that they were unwilling to reveal their magic to anyone but their rightful owners. Kíli kept trying until finally…

The feeling hit him like a ton of bricks and he had to take a step back to steady himself. Such warmth and strength coursed through his veins, filling every fibre of his being. He felt light-headed yet almost invincible. Before he even realised it, the lid of the box flew open and his one flew into his hand.

“Oh my,” gasped Mister Ollivander softly, “how curious.”

“What’s curious?” asked Dwalin almost cautiously, looking as if he could not take any more excitement of the day.

“I remember making this wand and I wonder if you would be the one to choose it,” said Mister Ollivander, his eyes still fixed on the wand as if in a trance, “10 inches long of vine wood, which is said to be extremely sensitive to its owner. Indeed I felt it emitting magic when I went back to retrieve it. Vine is said to seek those who wish to pursue a greater purpose, who have a vision beyond the ordinary and who frequently astound those who think they know them best. I think we can expect great things from you, young Kíli. But the most curious part is the core of this wand…”

“By my beard!” Dwalin gasped, clearly understanding the implication of Mister Ollivander’s statement.

“Quite,” smiled Mister Ollivander, “It is not a dragon heartstring, which is a custom of Dwarves, or even a phoenix feather if you have taken more after your mother. Your wand contains a unicorn hair, the one only to be used by Elves. Yet, as far as I know, you have no Elvish blood in you, do you?”

“Definitely not on Frerin’s side,” frowned Dwalin, as if he was personally insulted. “I cannot speak for Melian, as witches of Men always have some magical blood, most likely Elf’s. But she comes from a well-respected Muggle family whose family tree can be traced back to several hundred years ago. None of her known ancestors was an Elf. Whatever traces of Elf blood she has must be minuscule.”

“I have thought as much,” nodded Mister Ollivander. “So you see, this is most curious.” He turned to look at Kíli kindly. “Regardless of the core of your wand, you have been chosen by an extremely powerful and particular wand. It is a great honour and I am sure you have found yourself a perfect ally. Cherish your wand, bond with it, grow with it, and you shall ask for no better companion in your magical endeavour.”

Smiling despite his misgivings, Kíli thanked Mister Ollivander and left the shop, his money bag almost empty. Dwalin, however, was silent, which did nothing to help ease Kíli’s worries. This day had felt like a rollercoaster of a ride. Despite promises of his gift and his potential, Kíli felt more uneasy than reassured. The prospect of being someone special was truly enticing, especially since Kíli felt that he needed it not only to survive Hogwarts but also to live up to his parents’ legacy. But truth be told, he would not mind being normal and ordinary, maybe even at the price of mediocrity. More than anything, however, Kíli desperately wanted to belong, though now this looked highly unlikely with his odd looks, mixed parentage, and above all, a weird wand that nobody could explain.

After walking in silence for a good ten minute, they had finally reached the end of Diagon Alley. Jerking out of his thoughts, Dwalin beckoned Kíli forward into the Leaky Cauldron to get some dinner, which Kíli followed, his mind still raging a furious battle. Finally sensing Kíli’s discomfort, Dwalin stopped on his track and rubbed his bald head helplessly.

“I’m really sorry, laddie. I know this is a lot to take in, almost a shock to the system, and I guess my reaction really didn’t help.”

Chewing on his lower lip, Kíli finally plucked up the courage to ask the question that he had been dreading, “Will the Dwarves hate me because of my looks, my mixed blood and Elfish wand?”

“Mahal’s beard, no!” cried Dwalin in astonishment. He quickly lowered his voice when he saw the curious looks on the other patrons’ faces. “Look, there will be people who hold those things against ya. But then there are pricks, pardon the language, everywhere. I’m sure yeh’ve met a few bullies in yer life as a Muggle.” Kíli nodded and Dwalin smiled encouragingly. “See? The point is, yeh don’t let those arseholes stop yeh from living, do ya? Yeh ignore them or beat them in a fight to teach them a lesson.” He lowered his head closer to Kíli to whisper surreptitiously in his ear, “As a teacher, I probably shouldn’t. But I will let those fights slip for yeh in Hogwarts.” Kíli could not help but crack a smile, though his doubts were not completely cleared. “But are you sure the rest of them will, you know, accept me? What if no one wants to be my friends?”

“Listen to me, laddie,” Dwalin looked at Kíli very seriously. “Friendship is earned. It’s not something that just falls off the sky. Yeh have to prove yer worth, as a loyal and kind friend. It is true that some may have reservations towards yeh because of yer background. But they will see yeh for who yeh are once they get to know ya, because yeh are a nice lad with a good kind heart. Yeh have earned my friendship, laddie, and I daresay Bilbo and Nori’s too. They both like yeh and let me tell ya, Nori is not an easy one to win over. If someone cannot look past their prejudices, they are really not worth it.”

The kind words and the absolutely sincere look on Dwalin's face finally convinced Kíli. Overwhelmed with emotions, Kíli threw caution to the wind and wrapped himself around Dwalin’s broad waist, burying his face into the older Dwarf’s chest. His hands laden with packages from a day’s shopping, Dwalin could only grunt in an attempt to make a comforting sound, which amused Kíli as he extracted himself from Dwalin and giggled.

“Now I know yeh’re alright,” snorted Dwalin. “Now go grab a table so I can finally eat. I’m starving.”

Dinner went smoothly after this little exchange. The beef stew was one of the best Kíli had ever had, not that he had a lot to compare with. But judging by Dwalin’s contented moans, it was indeed delicious. They ate mostly in comfortable silence, both too hungry to stop for any conversation. Once they had cleared their apple tart, Dwalin finally spoke again.

“So,” Dwalin fought hard to fight down a contented belch but failed eventually, “more logistics on Hogwarts. Yeh’re to arrive there by train.”

“Train?” cried Kíli in surprise. Frankly, he had expected something more, well, magical.

“Yes, Hogwarts Express. It will leave at 11 am sharp on the 1st of September so yeh better not be late. Yeh can catch it at King’s Cross Station, platform 9 ¾. It’s the one between Platform 9 and 10. It will look like a solid brick wall but all yeh have to do is to walk through it. Be careful of the Muggles around yeh though. Yeh don’t wanna be caught by some Muggles seeing yeh disappear. One key thing about the magical world: never let Muggles know we exist! That means no magic in front of Muggles and no weird things happening around them. I don’t think yeh’ll have any problems though. Yeh grew up with them so yeh know what’s weird for them.”

Kíli nodded, trying to memorise all the details. Seeing his struggle, Dwalin smiled. “Don’t worry, laddie. I have the instructions written here.” He handed Kíli a piece of parchment along with his train ticket and Kíli signed in relief. “Now, I can tell yeh a bit more about Hogwarts if yeh like. Or yeh can just ask me if you any questions.”

“I’d love to hear more about Hogwarts.” Kíli’s eyes lit up and he sat straight up in his chair, leaning forward with hardly-concealed excitement. Dwalin grinned. “Thought as much. Well, Hogwarts is one of the oldest and the best wizarding schools in the world. I won’t bore ya with its history. That’s my brother Balin’s job and yeh can read about it in _Hogwarts, A History_. Once yeh arrive there, yeh will be sorted into Houses. There are four houses, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Each house has its own unique characteristics and they look for different qualities in their students.”

“What kind of qualities?” interrupted Kíli half curious half nervous. Maybe there was something he could do to practice so at least he would have some commendable qualities to be picked by at least one house. He shuddered at the thought of not being picked. “What happens if no house wants me?”

“Nah, it doesn’t work like that,” Dwalin waved Kíli’s concern away with his large hand. “Once yeh’re accepted into Hogwarts, it’s a done deal. They don’t send yeh back or anything, well, not unless yeh break some serious rules. So don’t worry. Sorting is really just to see where yeh may fit better. Peer bonding and all that. Yeh sleep in the same living quarter as yer housemates including the common room. Every year there’s a House Cup where the house with the most points wins. So if yeh behave well for yer House, yeh earn points and, even better, the respect of yer peers. If yeh are a little bugger like I used to be, well, yeh lose points but people will still love ya anyway. Apart from that, all students go to the same classes together anyway so it’s really not that different. I won’t prejudice yeh against any houses now. Yeh will know once yeh’re in Hogwarts. Best not to worry about and leave it to the capable hands.”

Not entirely convinced, Kíli nodded anyway. He was still curious, however. “Which house were you in? What about my parents?”

“I was sorted into Gryffindor and so was yer dad. Yer mum was a Ravenclaw. Nori was a Slytherin and Bilbo a Hufflepuff. So you see, not all that different really.”

“What about classes? What are we going to learn?” This was honestly the most exciting part of Hogwarts. Kíli’s mind almost reeled from thinking about all the magic.

“Keen little thing, aren’t ya?” laughed Dwalin. “Hmm, let’s see. For yer first and second year, yeh’ll learn all the required classes. In yer third year, yeh can choose additional electives. It gets a bit more complicated in yer fifth and sixth year but let’s not worry about that. For required classes, you need to learn Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Herbology, Defence Against Dark Arts, History of Magic, Astronomy, and, of course, Flying, but that’s only for your first year.”

“And you teach Defence Against Dark Arts?”

“Aye, I’ll teach you the history of Dark Arts, dark magical creatures, defensive spells against dark magic, and duelling techniques.”

“Wow,” sighed Kíli in amazement. This sounded absolutely amazing. He eyed Dwalin’s strong muscles in awe. It must be a real privilege to learn duelling under the tutelage of a great warrior like Dwalin.

“Don’t get too excited, laddie,” laughed Dwalin. “Yer first couple of years are really for foundation work, magical theories and such, so later yeh can do more complex magic. It won’t be as exciting as yeh’ve imagined.”

“Honestly, anything magical sounds cool to me at this point,” admitted Kíli frankly and Dwalin laughed again. “That’s the spirit, lad. Now yeh can read yer textbooks before the start of the school but I don’t want yeh experimenting too much, okay?” His tone turned serious. “Without a grown wizard next to ya, it could be dangerous. Not to mention yeh live in an orphanage full of Muggles. Yeh don’t want to blow up the orphanage, do ya?”

That was a bit of a letdown for Kíli. He was looking forward to learning a few tricks from his textbooks and maybe showing it off to his friends. But he understood Dwalin’s concern. He certainly didn’t want to be remembered as the moronic kid who blew himself up before he even went to Hogwarts.

“Anything else yeh want to know?”

Kíli hesitated. He was almost scared to ask the question but he knew that he had to. “Could you tell me more about my parents? How did they die?”

Dwalin closed his eyes and bowed his head before looking up with a look that could only be described as resigned. “I was afraid yeh were going to ask that. But I suppose it’s only natural, isn’t it?” Sighing heavily, he continued, “They died because they were fighting against the Dark Lord. They were both such heroes in the last Wizarding War. Yer dad and I were in the same year in Hogwarts and we were both in Gryffindor. As yeh can probably imagine, we were really tight. He came from a most prominent ancient Dwarf family, which, although was quite poor like the rest of us at the time, still held more weight than most. Most who knew him loved him, not because of his parentage, but rather because he was so cheerful, energetic, and such a fun lad to be around. He was very clever, though he probably didn’t study as hard as he should have done, considering all those nights we spent sneaking out of our dormitory into the grounds and even the Forbidden Forest.” The corners of Dwalin’s mouth twitched though Kíli thought he could see the moisture in his eyes.

“Yer mum was the complete opposite. 2 years younger than us, she came from a nice Muggle family and was sorted into Ravenclaw. She was very hardworking and very kind, always seeing the best in people. She was one of the most popular girls in school, which was rare for a Muggleborn. Yet she always remained humble and sincere. It was hard to meet someone who did not end up liking her. I still remember her beautiful dark eyes, always so full of life and love,” said Dwalin with such fondness and nostalgia in his tone that Kíli felt his heart swell. “Yer dad was so in love with her that he literally could not speak in her presence for the first 6 months. Once we ran into her in the corridor and he walked straight into the wall. Poor sod, Melian thought for the longest time he was some kind of a mute with a balancing problem,” laughed Dwalin, his eyes filled with mirth. “Luckily he did overcome that eventually and started courting her for real. His family did not approve at the beginning. They could not even fathom the idea of the Durin line not being pure anymore. But yer dad fought for their love like a real warrior that he always had been. Even threats of disinheritance could not sway him. Yer mum stood by him the whole way through. They two really were invincible together and his family had to give in. After graduation from Hogwarts, yer dad started training to be an Auror, you know, like the Muggle police, which took him another three years. By that time, yer mum had already started working as a Healer. A couple of years later, they got married and it was one of the biggest events of the year, as they both had so many friends. Three years later, yeh were born, which brought such joy to both of them that I frankly had never seen them happier. They both loved ya so much!”

Tears filled Kíli’s eyes as he listened and Dwalin stopped to give him a moment to recover. He tried to imagine what his life would have been like if his parents had not been killed. He would grow up so loved by both of them. He would look up to his dad while loving his mum with all his heart. Maybe he would even have younger brothers and sisters, whom he would tease endlessly but swore to protect. His dad would play sports with him and his mum would cook the most delicious meals. Then on weekends, Dwalin and their other friends would come to visit, spoiling him rotten with sweets and stories. Today, instead of Dwalin, he would have his parents to take him shopping and tell him all about Hogwarts and their loving experience there. But that life was stolen from him so cruelly, at such a young age that he didn't even have any memories of it. Despite all his effort, he could not picture his dad’s laughing face nor smell the fragrance of his mum’s soft red hair. All of this had been so unfair.

“I’m really sorry, lad,” said Dwalin with sadness in his eyes. “Neither of them deserved to die, so young and so kind. Yeh don’t deserve to be left behind either.”

“How did they die?” whispered Kíli. He tried to wipe the tears off his face but they just wouldn’t stop falling.

Dwalin sighed. “I don’t know how much I’m supposed to tell ya. Yeh’re still so young. Maybe later Gandalf can tell yeh more. But yeh have to know that they died fighting for the right cause and we could not have gotten the peace that we have today, no matter how short-lived it may be, without their sacrifices.”

Fresh tears spilt down Kíli’s cheek and he hiccuped a little. Dwalin gently wrapped his arms around him, cocooning Kíli’s curly head. Leaning into the sideway embrace, Kíli asked his last questions of the day. “What about my parents’ family? Why was I sent to an orphanage, not to them?”

“Both of yer grandparents died before yeh were born. Yer mother’s mother died when she was a young girl and her father died of some kind of Muggle disease when she was in Hogwarts. Your father’s parents both died fighting during the last Wizarding War, which was another reason why yer father was so driven. He wanted to avenge his family. Both of yer parents were the only children in their families. I reckon yeh could find some distant relatives in other Dwarf families but the Wizarding War was not over when yer parents died. So it was actually safer to place yeh in the Muggle world since Gandalf knows Madam McGonagall and she promised to take care of ya.” He looked at Kíli seriously. “I know it’s nothing compared to the home you should have had but is she at least looking after you properly?”

Not wishing to get Madam McGonagall into any kind of trouble, Kíli nodded vigorously. Dwalin was right. It was not Madam McGonagall’s fault that his parents died. Given the resources that they had, she did her best for him and shielded him from further harm. He reckoned that all things considered he was quite fortunate.

The ancient clock in Leaky Cauldron soon struck 9 and Kíli knew it was time to go. Dwalin heaved himself up to grab all their packages and they bid Nori good night. “I’ll be seeing you in Hogwarts, young Kíli! Don’t hesitate to stop by and get your tea leaves read.”

The orphanage was quiet by the time they got back, as everyone had retired to their rooms for the night. Dwalin deposited all the packages in the small corner of the Storage room that was designated to Kíli, who had no time nor energy to go through them tonight. 

“Right,” said Dwalin a little awkwardly. “I suppose this is it. Everything alright with yeh, laddie?”

Even though Kíli dreaded the departure, he knew he could not hold Dwalin any longer. The older Dwarf had done his part, exceptionally well in this case, and Kíli had to learn to adjust to his upcoming new life on his own. As if reading Kíli’s mind, Dwalin smiled. “Don’t worry. Yeh can always send me any questions or concerns yeh have. And once yeh’re in Hogwarts, I’ll look out for yeh.”

“Right,” replied Kíli a little hesitantly. Did Dwalin mean it when he said Kíli could write to him if he had any questions before the start of the term? Or was he just being polite since, honestly, Kíli had no way of reaching him?

“Ah, right! I almost forgot!” Dwalin clasped his large hand on his forehead, making heavy thudding noise. “Yeh’ve got no owls or ravens. That was really stupid of me to forget. But anyway,” He pulled a minute little raven out of his travelling cloak and handed it to Kíli. “I know it’s yer birthday and yeh haven’t got money to buy a pet. So here’s Keeper, yer birthday present. He’s real friendly and already tamed. This way yeh can send letters and won’t feel left out when everyone else has a pet.”

Gasping audibly, Kíli cradled the precious little thing into his palms. Keeper eyed him almost lazily before nuzzling his beak into his hand. “See,” beamed Dwalin, “he likes ya already.”

“I don’t… this is…” spluttered Kíli, clearly overwhelmed with gratitude and joy. Dwalin ruffled his hair in a fatherly manner and laughed. “Don’t mention it, laddie. This is the least I can do for my best friends’ only son.”

Later, when Kíli finally climbed into his bed after one long exhausting day, he had never felt so happy and content in his entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can probably tell, I borrowed some of Lily Evans' and James Potter's appearance and background for Kíli's mum and dad, just to mix the two worlds together.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first meeting between the two best friends! Hooray! The story would not be complete without a "villain" though :)

The next month passed unbelievably fast. Kíli spent most of his free time reading his textbooks. He hadn’t had much time to practice anything yet since he was still busy helping in the orphanage, which he had no intention of blowing up. Whenever he had a question, however, he did take up Dwalin’s offer to write to him and the older Dwarf’s reply was always prompt and detailed. Through Dwalin, Kíli knew that first years were not allowed a broom and could not join a Quidditch team, which was the ultimate sport in the wizarding world. Somehow Kíli had a hard time picturing those hardy and stout Dwarves on a broomstick, which seemed way too flimsy to hold their weight. But Dwalin assured him proudly that Dwarves were excellent at Quidditch, especially as Beaters. In fact, both Dwalin and his dad were in the Gryffindor Quidditch team back in the day. This got Kíli excited about Quidditch. Surely a sport that everyone in the wizarding world loves so much must be fun.

He also tried to pry some information out of Dwalin about his new professors but with much less success. Dwalin was reluctant to talk about his colleagues behind their backs, insisting that he did not want to prejudice Kíli before he even met them. So Kíli had to give up and return to his textbooks. He did find that he enjoyed some subjects more than the others. Charms, for example, was not only interesting but also practical. He had a great time reading about all those handy spells that could make one’s life so much easier. Defence Against Dark Arts was also fascinating. Like all other little boys, Kíli had always had a secret dream to be a policeman or a soldier once he grew up. The fact that his father was one only strengthened Kíli’s aspiration. 

Other subjects, however, were far less promising. He wanted to like Transfiguration because the idea of transforming an object (or even a living thing!) into something entirely different was too tempting. Yet he found the subject incredibly dense and dry, with long complex theories that he had a hard time comprehending. He only hoped that with a professor’s guidance, he could master this powerful branch of magic. Potions and Herbology were fun enough to read, yet Kíli had little patience to try to memorise all the names and properties of the various magic herbs and fungi, let alone the long potion instructions, which sounded awfully like cooking recipes to Kíli. But all in all, he could hardly say that he was bored of reading Hogwarts textbooks and he could barely wait for the start of the term.

The 1st of September turned out to be a nice sunny Wednesday. Kíli woke up at the break of dawn and simply could not go back to sleep. After spending a good hour roaming in the orphanage, checking his already packed trunk at least 20 times, he finally joined the rest of the house for breakfast. 

“Right,” said Madam McGonagall after everyone had finished breakfast, “time to go to school, kids. Grab your things and let’s go. You don’t want to be late for your first day of the term.” She turned to Kíli, “you’ll stay here of course and I will take you to King’s Cross in a couple of hours. Do you want to say goodbye?”

It suddenly dawned on Kíli that he was not going to see all his friends from the orphanage for a long time. Too wrapped up in the prospect of going to Hogwarts, he never even gave this farewell any thought. Now, however, when all his friends came to hug him, Kíli felt his eyes prickle with tears. He was really going on this new adventure, into a world so fascinating, foreign but also frightening and he was all alone.

The ride to King’s Cross Station was smooth and uneventful, leaving them a good 20 minutes to spare. Madam McGonagall checked and rechecked everything that Kíli had before turning to him, “I suppose this is it. I cannot cross the wall with you. Only wizards and their families can do that.” She brushed a lock of unruly hair from his eyes gently and smiled, almost a bit sadly. “Good luck, Kíli. I’m sorry I cannot go any further with you on your next journey.” She hesitated before continuing, “I hope your time at the orphanage wasn’t too terrible for you. I know that it is nothing compared to what you deserve but I do hope you can look back at it as fond memories. Do come back to see us if possible.”

Feeling a sudden surge of gratitude towards this strict yet kind woman, who had looked after him all these years with nothing in return, Kíli threw himself at Madam McGonagall’s arms. She froze, clearly not expecting this display of emotion, before returning his embrace. “You’ve done everything you can, Madam McGonagall,” Kíli’s voice was a bit muffled. “I can never thank you enough for everything.” He glanced back up at her and beamed, “Of course, I’ll come back to visit, as long as you’ll have me.” The smile he got back from Madam McGonagall could only be described as loving and fond, which filled him with warmth and newly-found courage.

Taking a deep breath, Kíli braced himself and started pushing his trolley in front of him towards the solid-looking wall between Platform 9 and 10. He closed his eyes instinctively right before his trolley made contact with the wall but no clash came. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a platform filled with wizards dressed in a similar fashion as Dwalin. A scarlet steam engine was whistling right in front him and he hurried up the train. His eyes fixed only on the train, Kíli did not see the trolley in front of him in time. When he did, it was too late. Despite his best effort to break the run, Kíli crashed headlong into the other trolley, sending both of their things flying everywhere. Keeper shrieked indignantly as the little raven flew out of Kíli’s jacket to avoid the crash landing.

Kíli was panting on the floor, rubbing his ribcage, which had just rammed into his trolley. It felt bruised and Kíli hissed in pain when he touched a particularly tender part. This, however, wasn’t his biggest worry because he needed to get up to first apologise to whomever he just ran over and then get on the train. It was a bit hard in his current condition though and Kíli promptly started to panic.

“Are you alright, dear?” A kindly female voice came from above along with a firm hand extended to him. Grabbing the hand gratefully, which was surprisingly large and strong for a lady, Kíli managed to get on his feet to find himself face to face with a beautiful Dwarf lady dressed in fine robes. 

She was very tall for a Dwarf lady with a strong athletic build. A pair of strikingly blue eyes and a long sharp nose sat on her angular and well-defined face. The long dark brown hair fell on her shoulder in waves while the sides were intricately braided and shaped her face perfectly. What most striking about her, however, was not her good looks. It was the air of dignity and honour that she possessed. Clearly, she was from one of those ancient Dwarf families that Dwalin had mentioned. 

Next to her, a blond boy of about Kíli’s age was dusting his expensive robes and smoothing his hair. So that was his victim, thought Kíli desperately. Not only did he almost kill an heir to an ancient family, but a very attractive one too. Even though he was shorter than Kíli, he was very strong, with broad chest and shoulders. He had got his mother’s eyes and similar yet softer facial features. His hair, however, was of bright golden colour, like the purest and brightest sunlight. Feeling very self-conscious about his own lanky frame and baggy clothes, Kíli could hardly stop himself from fidgeting in the presence of this golden boy. 

“I am so very sorry,” mumbled Kíli to the beautiful lady and the golden boy, his face heating up with embarrassment. “I was in a hurry to get on the train and I wasn’t looking. I…”

“Please, dear,” said the lady in a kind voice, “it’s not your fault. We should have paid more attention ourselves. Are you alright? You had a nasty fall. Are you hurt?”

Feeling rather embarrassed with his own clumsiness and taken aback by the lady’s kindness, Kíli bowed his head and said in a small voice, “I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”

Before the lady could say anything, the golden boy next to him piped up, “are you sure? I noticed you wincing when you were lying on the ground. You shouldn’t take such injuries lightly.” He turned to his mother, “Mum can check you out, can’t you, mum?”

“Of course!” said the lady, her tone brooking no argument. “But before I do that, I should find your parents. They must be terribly concerned and I’d like to get their permission before I perform any magic on you.”

“I… My…” Kíli hesitated. He didn’t feel like sharing his secret with strangers but the lady and her son were awfully kind to him. Besides, with no father figure in sight, Kíli felt that maybe they would actually understand. “I’m an orphan and I came here by myself. Well,” he corrected himself, “I came with the matron of the Muggle orphanage I grew up in but she can’t enter the platform because she’s a Muggle and not my family.”

“Oh, my dear boy,” cried the lady in a tone that only a loving mother would possess and she looked like she wanted to give Kíli a tight embrace. Yet she composed herself quickly enough, possibly not wishing to overwhelm Kíli any further. “I am so sorry to hear that. Please, let me take a look at you.”

Upon Kíli’s lingering hesitancy, the golden boy held out his hand to grab Kíli’s. “It’s alright. Mum is a great healer. She’ll just perform some diagnostic spells on you. She’s done it plenty of times and it’s perfectly safe.”

The lady snorted, which surprised Kíli for she had been the image of grace and elegance until now. “With all the havoc you and Gimli wrecked, I’ve got all the practice I need to last me a lifetime. Thank Mahal you’re off to Hogwarts so you’re Oín’s problem now.” The golden boy made a face at his mother’s comment, which elicited a pained chuckled from Kíli. “Please let me take a look, dear. It would only take a minute.”

Finally relenting, Kíli nodded his consent. The lady raised her wand, an absolutely powerful and fierce one, and with a quick swish, Kíli felt the warmth of magic flow through him, probing his body gently. It actually felt quite nice, mused Kíli, almost soothing. Before he could try to Sense it any longer, it left him and he found the lady smiling with relief. “I think you’re fine, dear. Nothing more serious than some bruises. You shouldn’t do anything strenuous though.” She turned to her son. “Will you please take care of his luggage, love? Also, make sure to take him to Oín once you get to Hogwarts. He can give you some balm for bruises and maybe a potion for pain.”

Before Kíli could protest, the boy nodded eagerly. “Of course, mum. I’ll look after him. Er,” he looked at Kíli apologetically, “I’m really sorry for the accident. I really need to be more mindful of my surroundings. I’m Fíli by the way, Fíli Arken.”

“Good gracious,” cried the lady. “Where are my manners? I’m sorry, dear, but we haven’t introduced ourselves. I’m Dís Arken and this is my son Fíli. He’s starting this year in Hogwarts. What’s your name?”

His face heating up again under the intense gaze of two pairs of equally piercing blue eyes, Kíli said in his most polite manner, “I’m Kíli Durin, madam. Delighted to meet you both.”

“Mahal’s beard,” gasped Dís, clasping her hand to her mouth. “I should have known, Frerin and Melian’s son. Oh, my dear boy.” This time she did embrace Kíli, who could not help but melt into the hug, despite the pain. “I know your parents well from our old Hogwarts days. You must be starting this year too, aren’t you?”

Kíli nodded. Before they could talk any further, the honking of the train indicated the time. “Dear me, we must hurry.” Dís waved her wand again and Kíli’s luggage levitated off the ground to float in the air. “Off you go. The train is leaving. Do take care, my dear, both of you!”

Once they were seated comfortably in an empty carriage, both of their trunks placed on the overhead rack (Kíli’s with the help of Dís’s magic), they poked their heads outside the window to say goodbye to Dís. She waved at them with a warm smile and kept it up until the train left the station. For some reason, Kíli thought he saw a strange look on her face when her eyes fell on him, a mixture of sadness, uncertainty, concern, and finally hope.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The carriage they found was empty apart from themselves. After settling in his seat, Kíli shot a stealthy look at Fíli from underneath his fringe. If he was honest with himself, Kíli found the Dwarf boy fascinating. Yet despite Fíli’s kindness towards him earlier, Kíli still felt reluctant to be the one to break the silence, for fear of saying something really stupid and ignorant. Luckily, Fíli was equally curious about him.

“How are you feeling now?” asked Fíli, his eyes wide with concern. “Are you still in pain?” When Kíli assured him that he was alright, the blond sighed with relief. “Thank Merlin. Mum would have killed me if anything serious had happened to you.” He grinned at Kíli. “She keeps saying that Gimli and I are responsible for all her grey hairs. I reckon she’s got a point.” When he saw the puzzled look on Kíli’s face, he added quickly, “Gimli is my cousin, well, a distant cousin anyway. Since I don’t have any siblings, I practically grew up with him. Speaking of which, I wonder where he is. He’s in our year too so he really should be here. Unless…” Fíli looked thoughtful, “maybe he’s got into some kind of trouble and can’t make it. Wouldn’t be the first time anyway. Honestly, I swear that he’s responsible for most of the troubles we’ve caused.”

“How is he going to get to Hogwarts then?” gasped Kíli, not willing to contemplate this horrible possibility. Fíli, on the other hand, merely laughed. “Don’t worry. His dad is professor Gloín Azanulbizar. He teaches Arithmancy at Hogwarts. If Gimli does miss the train, his dad can just floo him into Hogwarts.”

It must be so nice to have family in Hogwarts, thought Kíli, feeling a bit envious. Fíli quickly assured him that nothing could be further from the truth. “It’s going to be a nightmare. I mean my uncle Thorin is the Potions Master in Hogwarts. I can’t even imagine what Potions will be like. I just hope I can live up to his expectations.” The frown on his face spelt both anxiety and determination. “I can’t imagine how Gimli must feel when he’s in his dad’s class. Well, at least he doesn’t have to worry about it until his third year and he could always choose not to study Arithmancy. He’s a disaster with numbers anyway so it may not be such a bad idea.”

“Your uncle is a Hogwarts professor too?”

“Yeah, and probably the most feared professor. Honestly, he needs to learn to smile more. But anyway, he’s mum’s older brother and practically brought me up. If you find that he terrifies the living daylight out of you, join the club. Once you get to know him though, he’s the best uncle and mentor you can ever ask for.” The pride in his voice was undeniable and Kíli could not help but smile.

“Dwalin told me about him and his stories,” Kíli suddenly remembered his conversation with Dwalin about Erebor and he tried to picture Thorin, the majestic and fierce owner of the bank. Somehow it was not hard to imagine a severe and strict Potions Master that terrorised the Hogwarts students.

“Did he?” asked Fíli with an eyebrow raised. “That was so very nice of him. So you know about Erebor? Do you like it?”

That was a bit of an odd question. Kíli had never thought about it. Sure, the place was impressive and majestic, probably just like Thorin himself, but he would not say that he liked it. He had always preferred the open ground and nature. So while such a structure could inspire awe and respect in him, he did not really care for it. Once he had said it though, he felt like kicking himself for his lack of tact.

“That’s interesting,” grinned Fíli as he leaned in with interest, which filled Kíli with relief. He was afraid that Fíli would take offence since his uncle owned the place. “I do love it but I suppose I’m biased. Living there certainly makes me very emotionally attached to Erebor.”

“You live in Erebor?” Kíli could feel his eyes going wide. It was one thing to be related to Thorin, quite another to live in his palace.

Fíli’s cheeks turned suspiciously pink. “Yeah, I grew up in Erebor. We used to go there all the time after uncle Thorin named me his heir because he wanted to supervise my education. Then after dad died, we officially moved in.” As he said this, all the colour slowly disappeared from Fíli’s handsome face. When he locked eyes with Kíli, however, his gaze did not waver.

“I am so sorry to hear that,” whispered Kíli. He understood too much how it felt to lose one’s parents. Without thinking, he placed his hand on Fíli’s and squeezed it in a comforting way. Fíli’s eyes fell on their held hands briefly before he returned his gaze and smiled warmly at Kíli. “Thank you. It is very sad and mum is still grieving dad’s loss. He was and always has been the love of her life. But he died a hero’s death, defending a Muggle against an escaped Death Eater, the Dark Lord’s followers.” The look of pride on Fíli’s face could hardly be missed and Kíli smiled in spite of the sad story. “I miss him terribly too but I’ve got mum and uncle. I’m luckier than most.”

There was something about Fíli that made Kíli like him almost immediately. Despite his young age, Fíli was calm, level-headed, and very mature. It seemed that he was very comfortable with who he was, neither arrogant because of his privileged upbringing, nor resentful or insecure because of the tragedy in his life. Kíli desperately hoped that he could be more like Fíli, for he found it hard to suppress his own self-doubts sometimes. But his new friend’s (Kíli sincerely wished that Fíli considered him a friend too) calm presence soothed Kíli, for which he was extremely grateful.

Although Fíli was tactful and considerate enough not to ask Kíli about his parents, the brunette felt that he ought to tell his friend more about himself. This topic was still painful for Kíli but Fíli was a good listener, never pressing him for more details nor rushing him. His hand never left Kíli’s the whole time Kíli recounted his story, which was followed by a comforting hug from the blond.

“Don’t worry,” said Fíli with a soft smile. “You will make a lot of friends in Hogwarts and become a great wizard. I just know it. Your parents would be so proud of you!” And suddenly, the pain lessened just a little bit, as Kíli leaned into the hug, willing himself to believe his friend.

The trolley with food soon came around their carriage. It was then that Kíli realised he did not pack any lunch in his overexcited state that morning. He eyed the food in the trolley longingly before forcing himself not to look. He had no wish to spend his precious money on food when he could toughen it out. Fíli, however, noticed his predicament very quickly and took matters into his own hands. Getting every single food item from the trolley, Fíli insisted that he couldn’t possibly finish all the food and Kíli must share them so they did not go to waste. After some serious internal struggle, his appetite finally won and Kíli soon busied himself with all sorts of strange wizarding food such as chocolate frogs, while Fíli happily explained everything to him, usually followed with some crazy stories involving his cousin Gimli.

“Are you excited for Hogwarts?” Fíli’s beautiful blue eyes were shining with excitement, “Which house do you think you’ll be sorted in?”

This was a question Kíli had wondered as well. “Honestly I’m not fussed. I’ll be happy as long as I have enough magic to be sorted into _a_ house.” Kíli blurted out, instantly regretting it though. Saying it out loud made him sound really stupid. Fíli, however, gave him a comforting smile. “I know what you mean. I pestered mum so much about it that it drove her up the wall. But still, she wouldn’t tell me how it was done because she wanted it to be a surprise,” Fíli rolled his eyes good-naturedly, “as if I need more of that in my life, with Gimli around,” and Kíli laughed. 

“My father told me exactly how the sorting works,” a slightly high-pitched voice, undoubtedly belonging to a boy caught in the unfortunate transition period, came from the carriage door. “Perhaps I can tell you how it works.” Kíli whipped his head around and saw a young Elf boy with beautiful long pale blond hair and a pair of light blue eyes. He was quite tall for his age but that was probably just his Elvish blood and he was extremely good-looking. The only thing that tarnished his beauty was the haughty look on his face. Kíli found himself almost recoil under that look and had to brace himself for what was to come. Stealing a sneak peek at Fíli, he could tell that his new friend was not pleased with the Elf’s rather rude interruption either.

“That was very nice of him,” replied Fíli coolly, the usual cheerful smile gone from his face, “Personally I don’t mind a bit of nice surprise. Makes life more interesting, don’t you think?” He grinned at Kíli who smiled in spite of the situation. 

The fair Elf, however, did not seem to appreciate this subtle brush-off. His pale face now tinged with a slight pink, he retorted in a condescending tone, “are you sure he can handle the excitement? He’s just a half-blood after all. Do you even know much about our world?” His scornful look fell on Kíli’s clothes, which though not tattered were clearly second-hand, and Kíli felt his insides boil with both embarrassment and anger. Fíli, on the other hand, was livid. “We do not welcome such an attitude in this compartment. Please leave now.”

“Tut, tut,” the Elf smirked at Fíli. “Has the heir of Oakenshield really sunk this low? Do you really need a poor half-blood around to make you feel better about yourself? Quite a pity really. But then again, you’re not really an Oakenshield, are you? You’re just an imposter with a father who’s no more than a low common Dwarf. Maybe that’s why you like the half-blood so much. You’re so alike after all.”

Fíli stood up from his seat, his fists clenched tightly. Before he could say a word though, Kíli exploded. “You take that back! You disgusting, vile, snobbish, discriminating, narcissistic,” Kíli tried to find the most hurtful words he knew yet none of them was enough to describe his anger towards the Elf, “prick! How dare you insult Fíli! He’s been nothing but kind and noble and you’re not fit to even wipe his boots!”

The slightly pink face of the Elf was now flushed with anger. The haughty look was replaced with a snarl and the Elf was shaking with rage. “How dare you talk to me like this, you filthy low disgusting half breed? Do you have any idea who I am? My blood is purer and more precious than anything you could have ever imagined. I was willing to offer the heir of Oakenshield my friendship, and I was willing to overlook your unfortunate origin. Is this how you’re going to repay me, you ungrateful brat?”

Fíli took several steps forward, his face contorted with rage. Yet the words that came out were still polite yet deadly. “I am well aware of who you are, Mister Legolas Greenleaf, son of Mister Thranduil Greenleaf, who remained neutral during the last Wizarding War, turning a blinding eye to the sufferings and deaths of the valiant soldiers fighting against the Dark. So forgive me if I am not thrilled by your offer of friendship. I have no wish of acquiring a friend who shall one day backstab me as your father did. Now I will repeat myself again. Please remove your unwelcome presence immediately.”

Taking a step forward, the Elf, Legolas, drew out his wand, a handsome long thin one with great power, and pointed it directly at Fíli’s face. “Nobody,” hissed Legolas, “insults my father in my presence.”

Before Fíli could respond, Kíli threw caution to the wind and reacted instinctively. Rushing forward, he stationed himself between Legolas and Fíli, using his taller frame to shield his friend. Forgetting about his wand entirely, Kíli did what he used to do best in fights and quarrels, he raised his fists at Legolas and yelled, “Don’t you dare point your stupid piece of wood at Fíli! Get out NOW!” Then, before any of the other two wizards could react, a powerful surge of magic sent Legolas flying out of their carriage. He crashed into the train window, which was thankfully strong enough not to break, and slumped to the floor.

“Mahal’s beard,” cried Fíli softly, his eyes filled with wonder, “that was one crazy bit of magic.” Kíli grinned at him, feeling both elated at Fíli’s amazement and a little embarrassed at his lack of control. Fíli turned to look at Legolas, as the latter struggled to get up. “Is he alright?” Kíli shrugged. Personally, he would not give a toss about Legolas but Fíli seemed to be the type of person who was too good and gentle, even towards their enemies. Legolas, however, seemed unharmed, except maybe his pride.

“You will pay for this, half-blood!” He spat out, before rushing away while trying frantically to smooth out his ruffled sleek blond hair. Kíli couldn’t help but grin at the Elf’s predicament. He really wished someone could have walked past right this moment to bear witness to this brilliant scene.

“Thank you, by the way,” Fíli’s voice drew Kíli’s attention away from Legolas, “for standing up for me.” Grinning widely at Fíli, Kíli puffed up his chest and said in a would-be casual tone, “Well, any time. What are friends for eh?”

The rest of the journey passed pleasantly. Fíli told Kíli more about the four houses and the qualities associated with each. “Some say you can tell which house you’ll be in based on the precedences in the family. I don’t know if I believe it. My dad was a Ravenclaw and quite an intellectual. Mum is a Gryffindor and man is she a lioness! But then uncle Thorin was sorted into Slytherin so I guess there’s really no pattern in my family. Maybe I’ll be sorted in Hufflepuff and complete the set.”

Somehow Kíli doubted that. Based on Fíli’s description, Kíli had a hunch that his friend would be a proud Ravenclaw. He felt that he himself might be sorted into Gryffindor, just like his dad. As much as he wanted to be like his father, the possibility made him a bit sad. He really wished he could stay in the same house as Fíli. Still, it could be worse, mused Kíli. That Legolas most likely would be sorted into Slytherin so at least Kíli could avoid that.

“What is it about Legolas’s dad in the last Wizarding War?”

All of a sudden, the smile vanished from Fíli’s face and Kíli almost wanted to kick himself for bringing up such a topic. Damn his stupid curiosity.

“Mister Dwalin might have told you,” sighed Fíli, “but Dwarves suffered a great loss in the last Wizarding War. We lost Erebor to Goblins and dragons, who killed so many of us with their deadly flames. Those who survived had nowhere to go. We solicited help from all of our contacts. Most were gracious enough to lend their hands, Men and Elves alike. Some fought alongside us against the Dark Lord and died in battlefields like true warriors that they were. Some, however, refused to take sides and turned a blind eye at our sufferings.”

“And Legolas’s dad was one of them,” whispered Kíli, his heart beating fast.

Fíli nodded gravely. “Indeed. Thranduil Greenleaf is from an extremely rich and influential ancient Elf family. He is not only a very powerful wizard but also one with many resources. Yet when we went to him, asking for help to shelter our kins, he refused.” Fíli’s eyebrows were now knitted together and he was breathing hard. “We didn’t even ask him to fight, for we knew that he never wanted to get his people involved. We merely asked him to help those who were unfortunate enough to have their homes taken from them. He refused even that, saying that he had no wish to incur the Dark Lord’s wraths. To add insult to injury, his family used to be our friend and ally when my great grandfather was at the height of his power. There were even talks of a marriage alliance, which was almost unheard of between Elves and Dwarves. Yet when we fell from grace, he turned his back on us.” Taking a deep breath, he looked at Kíli straight in the eye, “I was fortunate enough to be born after all that. But I still witnessed the aftermaths of those tragedies. Friends with no parents and no money because of that, families torn apart. But more than anything, I know how much it has changed uncle. Mum told me that he used to be happy, maybe a bit moody but still, content and happy, trusting. After that, however, he is never the same. He never trusts anyone anymore, apart from his closest kins and friends. He always looks solemn and I feel that he’s still unhappy, even after reclaiming Erebor. I can never forgive someone who caused such pain in my family.”

Taking Fíli’s hand and squeezing it, Kíli tried to comfort his friend. He used to think that he had the worst luck, for he had lost both of his parents. But now he came to realise that there were equally painful if not worse things, for he could not imagine what it felt like to watch your loved ones suffer every day. And to think his soft-hearted friend had to endure both made Kíli’s heartache for him. Thankfully, Fíli got his message and he smiled gratefully at Kíli, who felt that the whole world had just lightened a bit with Fíli’s smile.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the train was approaching Hogwarts, both of them changed into their Hogwarts robes. Kíli was feeling self-conscious about his second-hand robes, especially since Fíli’s was brand new and impeccably clean. Kíli noticed a capital A and O along with a crest that undoubtedly belonged to his family already embroidered on his robe in gold. Fíli, however, did not seem to mind Kíli’s rather shabby state. He simply smiled at his friend and said gently, “if you look this way, you can see the outline of the castle of Hogwarts, our home for the next seven years.” He held out his hand, which Kíli took gratefully, and beamed. “Now, are you ready my friend for this great adventure?” And Kíli had never felt more ready in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I had to make Legolas the villain in this case. This is clearly OOC from LoTR but his portrayal in the Hobbit reminds me too much of Draco Malfoy not to capitalise on that lol.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're finally at Hogwarts! Kíli and Fíli are sorted into different houses.

By the time the train stopped at the train station, it was already dark outside. Kíli squinted his eyes, trying to make out as much of his surroundings as possible. To his slight disappointment, he could detect nothing out of the ordinary. They were in a quiet area with regular-looking houses and a train station that seemed nothing magical. Before he could express his thoughts to Fíli, however, Kíli got his wish, for a strangely-dressed wizard came to greet them.

“First years, first years,” called the wizard, a Man of medium height dressed in ragged robes with a strange hat and an abundance of grey hair. Legolas’s pursed lips and the look on his face expressed plainly about what he thought of the wizard. Kíli, however, liked him for he looked kind if somewhat distracted, “I have a message for you.” Everyone stopped their current activities and waited with bated breath. Well, almost everyone. Fíli and a couple of others seemed not too bothered. “But I just forgot it.” Ah, so that explained it then. Kíli looked at Fíli in confusion and the latter rolled his eyes fondly. “This is Mister Radagast Brown,” he whispered to Kíli while Radagast was trying very hard to remember his message. “He’s the gamekeeper at Hogwarts. Brilliant chap and very good with animals. But he’s a little,” Fíli struggled to find the right word, “eccentric, especially when it comes to interacting with other wizards. Once you get to know him, you’ll love him and his eccentricity though. Well, unless you’re some snob like Legolas Greenleaf. But it’s only thanks to him that Hogwarts still stands firm and safe from all the crazy magical creatures Professor Dáin, our Care of Magical Creatures professor, continues to smuggle into Hogwarts. That’s why Radagast is the one greeting and taking new students to Hogwarts through the Black Lake.”

“Ah!” The sudden cry of Radagast made everyone jump. Kíli could see Legolas’s disapproving glare at the strange wizard. “I remember now. It’s not a message at all. It’s a task. I’m to take you to Hogwarts.” Radagast beamed at them enthusiastically. “Well, what are you waiting for? Follow me.”

They all got into boats of two and Kíli, of course, teamed up with Fíli. Thankfully, no one needed to row and steer the boats as they were enchanted to navigate their way through a large dark lake, which looked eerily quiet and thus rather menacing at night. Kíli wondered what sort of creatures inhabited the lake but his thoughts were soon distracted when the mighty castle of Hogwarts came into view.

“Wow,” sighed Kíli softly and Fíli grinned at his amazement. “Wait until you’re inside the castle. It’s even more magnificent and magical there.”

Kíli would have spent the whole trip on the boat drooling over the castle and fantasising about Hogwarts, had it not been a loud noise from somewhere in the distance that sounded awfully like an explosion. Snapping his head around, Kíli was horrified to see the bright lights of fire coming from the ground, accompanied by several jets of lights shooting straight into the air and some loud growling noise. 

“Merlin’s beard,” cried Radagast in exasperation. “Dáin is at it again! How many times do I have to tell him not to smuggle any dangerous animals to the Hogwarts ground? An erumpent this time! It could blow up the whole castle if he doesn’t contain the animal.”

Looking around, Kíli was relieved to find that he wasn’t the only one shocked by this. The wide-eyed look on Legolas’s face was of pure shock and disgust. For once Kíli found himself agreeing with Legolas. Others like Fíli, however, merely appeared amused.

“Don’t worry,” whispered Fíli in a soothing tone, “Professor Dáin knows how to handle magical creatures. I mean he’ll probably get himself killed one day but he would never let those animals hurt anyone else.”

This was hardly comforting but their journey had reached its end and Kíli’s attention was drawn to the tall willowy figure standing at the gate of the castle. She must be an Elf, for she seemed to glow in the darkness. Once Kíli was close enough to see her face, he found himself mesmerised by her ethereal beauty. Standing at almost 6 feet tall, she was dressed in a beautiful white gown that accentuated her slender figure perfectly. The long delicate blond curls cascaded down her back, sleek and shiny. Her eyes were so crystally blue that Kíli felt entranced by their depths and the wisdom within. When she spoke, it was melodically hypnotising. “Good evening, Radagast. You have brought the younglings to Hogwarts. I trust the journey was smooth and peaceful.”

Radagast bowed deeply to the fair Elf lady, confirming Kíli’s suspicion that she was of great standing and importance. “Aye, Lady Galadriel. Thank you for your concern. Please, allow me to present the first years.” He turned to them and said, “first years, this is Lady Galadriel Lothlórien, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, Professor of Transfiguration and Head of Gryffindor.”

“Thank you, Radagast,” Lady Galadriel inclined her head gracefully at the gamekeeper. She then turned to address the first years with a soft smile on her face. “My dear students, welcome to Hogwarts. I am Professor Galadriel and in a minute’s time, I shall take you to the Great Hall for the Sorting Ceremony. Before that, I would like to extend my warmest welcome to you all. Hogwarts shall be your home for the next 7 years of your life. On behalf of the staff of the school, I hope that you shall make yourself at home and we'll do everything we can to ensure that. For now, however, please wait here until I come back to collect you.” With that, she turned around gracefully and glided towards the large wooden door.

“You’re gaping open-mouthed and drooling, you know?” A laughing voice made Kíli whip around. It belonged to a red-haired Dwarf boy who was now standing next to them. “You act as if you’ve never seen an Elf before.”

“That’s because he hasn’t.” The smirk on Legolas’s face was much less friendly. “But what do you expect from a dirty Half Dwarf? He’s clearly never met his better.”

Before Kíli or Fíli could do anything, the red-haired boy exploded. Seconds later, Legolas was lying on the ground, thrashing wildly in an attempt to free himself from the Dwarf boy, who, though shorter than him, weighed significantly more.

“Mahal’s pants, Gimli!” Fíli cried in desperation. “What are you doing? Please stop.”

Words, it seemed, had little effect on Gimli, who continued to pummel Legolas with his strong fist. Kíli would not have cared - sometimes a good beating can teach you a valuable life lesson - had it not been the utterly panicked look on Fíli’s face. Somewhat reluctantly, he rushed towards Gimli and pulled the Dwarf boy away from Legolas with the help of Fíli and several other students.

“Stupid arrogant git.” Gimli spat on the ground. “You should have let me teach him a good lesson. How dare he call you,” he turned to Kíli, his eyes bright, “something like that? You are ten times the wizard he is!”

Kíli felt his heart swell. He had never expected a practical stranger to defend him like that, which had effectively erased the bitter taste Legolas had left in him. There were decent people in the Wizarding World, it seemed.

“Oh Gimli,” cried Fíli in exasperation, “that’s not the point! You should not beat him up. When can you not get into trouble?”

Gimli grinned. “Too late, cousin. You’re the one used to playing uncle’s baby, not me.”

Fíli closed his eyes and sighed. Kíli could not blame him. Taking a deep calming breath, he turned to Kíli, “Kíli, this is my cousin Gimli Azanulbizar that I’ve told you about. Gimli, this is my friend Kíli Durin. We met at King’s Cross station. He kept me company on the way here while you big oaf was nowhere to be found.”

“Ah well, stuff happens, you know.” Gimli shrugged and made a face, not embarrassed about it at all. “Nice to meet you. Kíli. Sorry about the circumstances though.”

“Well, now we’re ready to… What on earth is going on?” Lady Galadriel’s voice made all the commotions stop. Legolas, who had just stood up with the help of a couple of other Elves, piped up at once. “He,” he pointed a dramatic finger at Gimli, “just attacked me like a Muggle,” he scrunched up his face and uttered the last word in utmost disdain as if it was the worst offence in the world, “for no reason at all.”

Gimli exploded. “Oh, I have a good reason, you bigoted Woodland sprite! You insulted a student for no reason at all!”

Legolas sneered, a sight much less becoming now that his face was black and blue. “I didn’t insult him. I merely stated a simple truth about his blood.”

Before Gimli could jump on Legolas again, Lady Galadriel held up a hand, which quieted all the noises immediately. Her beautiful face looked solemn. “I see. Now, I should make it clear that neither violence nor prejudice will be tolerated at Hogwarts. This is a school for learning that is open to  _ all _ with a gift in magic. You will both serve detentions for your regrettable behaviour. If you cannot abide by the rules, you are not welcome in the castle. Have I made myself clear?”

Even though she had barely raised her voice, the effect was obvious. Both Gimli and Legolas hung their head in shame and nodded meekly. Kíli, on the other hand, felt that he was in love. “Wow! Lady Galadriel is just, wow. She is just so cool, not to mention extremely beautiful.”

“Not really by Dwarf standards,” commented Fíli. “Oh, don’t get me wrong,” he added hastily upon the scandalised expression on Kíli’s face, “Lady Galadriel is a great witch with formidable magical power and wisdom. As you’ve just seen, she’s also fair and kind. Some would not punish Legolas because they’re just as biased as he is. But Lady Galadriel is anything but, which makes her very well respected amongst all races, including Dwarves. In fact, she’s one of the few Elves that uncle approves of, even though he never publicly acknowledges it.”

Gimli, who had somehow recovered from Lady Galadriel’s admonition, snorted. Fíli, however, had his retort ready. “Don’t buy into Gimli’s talks. He practically idolises her.” He grinned at Gimli, who to Kíli’s surprise blushed. “But still, if we’re talking strictly about appearances, most Dwarves will find her too thin, too tall, and too beardless. We prefer our ladies to be stronger with a beautifully braided beard, like mum.”

Kíli nodded but said nothing. Hearing Fíli talking like this made him realise how deeply ingrained the customs were and how woefully ignorant he was of them. But surely looks were not everything. Lady Galadriel had just proved it. She was no beauty for Dwarves yet they still held her in the highest esteem, albeit maybe reluctantly. He just needed to prove his worth as a great wizard. Steeling himself, Kíli walked into the Great Hall to face his next battle, the Sorting Ceremony.

The Great Hall was magnificent, with tall enchanted ceilings that looked just like the night sky. Four long tables occupied the majority of the room with students in different coloured robes, all looking eagerly at the first years. At the end of the Great Hall stood the table for the Hogwarts staff. Kíli saw Dwalin, Bilbo, and Nori and gave them a small wave. Dwalin chortled while Nori winked at him. Bilbo gave both of them an exasperated look before smiling back at Kíli. Feeling more relieved upon seeing these familiar faces, Kíli turned his attention back to the centre of the table, which was occupied by a very old wizard with long white hair and beard and a grey pointed wizard’s hat, who stood up when all the first years had entered the Hall and beamed at them warmly.

“Thank you, Lady Galadriel, for bringing our newest members. Now, welcome to Hogwarts,” his voice was loud and firm, betraying nothing of his age. “My name is Gandalf Grey and I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Before I go on to bore you all with a speech, let us begin the Sorting Ceremony. Lady Galadriel will call your name and you shall come forward to put on the Sorting Hat.”

So that was how the sorting was done, thought Kíli with great relief. It did not seem too difficult. Next to him, Fíli was equally relieved if not a bit annoyed. “That was the great surprise mum has been talking about?” he hissed to Kíli, “I mean, honestly, tea with Professor Dáin is thousand times more exciting.”

Kíli grinned but before he could say anything, Gimli’s name was called and the boy rushed forward. Kíli and Fíli watched as Gimli put on the Hat, sat there for a barely a minute before the Hat announced loudly, “Gryffindor!”

“This is hardly surprising,” whispered Fíli as Gimli took off the Sorting Hat and made his way to the Gryffindor table. “Gimli screamed a Gryffindor even though his dad Professor Gloín is a Slytherin. That’s him over there.” Fíli pointed towards a Dwarf at the staff table with similar red hair and beard. He did not seem too pleased with his son’s placement.

“There’s this stupid rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor,” explained Fíli amongst the shouting and clappings of the Gryffindors. Sure enough, the Slytherins did not seem overjoyed by this new addition to Gryffindors rank. “Don’t even ask me why! Maybe because they used to be the two top contenders for the House Cup and Quidditch Cup. Maybe because a Gryffindor stole a Slytherin’s boyfriend. Their personalities are just the complete opposite. Hufflepuffs are usually more mellow and Ravenclaws couldn’t care less about things like this. But for someone like uncle who’s the Head of Slytherin, winning, no matter how small the prize is, is always a big deal. Losing is unacceptable, always. Gryffindors, however, never fail to rub it in when the Slytherins do lose.” He caught his uncle Thorin’s eyes and grinned at the older Dwarf.

The only word that came to Kíli’s mind about Thorin Oakenshield was majestic. He had similar striking good looks like his sister Dís with even more pronounced features. Although Kíli could not tell his height from his sitting position, he knew that Thorin was powerfully built and most likely a fearsome warrior. His expression was solemn to the point of being almost intimidating. Yet when his piercing blue eyes fell on his nephew, a rare smile lit up his entire face, making him look even more appealing. The smile, however, disappeared instantaneously when his gaze switched to Kíli.

Kíli felt himself tense up immediately when the look of astonishment on Thorin’s face soon morphed into a deep scowl of strong dislike. Feeling completely bewildered, Kíli wondered why someone like Thorin, who he had never met before, would dislike him so. He wanted to believe that it was a trick of the light but when he looked again, the frown on Thorin’s face was unmistakable. The Potions professor purposefully avoided Kíli’s eyes, the scowl still on his handsome face, making him look almost menacing. 

His mind working overload and his feelings deeply hurt, Kíli almost missed Fíli’s sorting. Only the Sorting Hat’s loud announcement of “Ravenclaw” jerked him out of his thoughts. He caught Fíli’s eyes and beamed at his friend while clapping enthusiastically with the rest of the Ravenclaws. Fíli returned his smile before joining the Ravenclaw table.

The sorting went on. A girl of Man was sorted into Slytherin and a boy of Man named Bain Dale became the first Hufflepuff. Both were welcomed warmly by their respective Houses while those at the staff table smiled fondly. Well, most of them anyway. Thorin was still glaring at Kíli when he thought the boy was not looking and Kíli had to fight hard not to fidget under the intense gaze.

“Kíli Durin.” Lady Galadriel’s voice finally registered with Kíli and he hurried forward, nearly tripping over himself. Once he put on the Sorting Hat, he could no longer see anyone so he waited patiently for the Hat to make a decision, all the while feeling a bit stupid.

“Ah, an interesting mind.” Kíli almost jumped off the stool when the Hat spoke in his mind. “Lots of curiosity, a thirst for knowledge, plenty of courage, and a great desire to prove yourself. Hmm, very curious. Hmm, have you got the Sense? How very peculiar. So where shall I put you?”

Honestly, Kíli was not sure if he was really imagining this voice. Hearing a voice inside one’s head sounded awfully crazy to him, not to mention that this voice belonged to a talking thinking hat! The Hat chuckled and Kíli realised that his thoughts were not only his at the moment. He huffed, feeling a little annoyed and impatient. Neither Fíli nor Gimli’s sorting took this long. He wished the Hat would just get on with it. He would be fine with any house really, although the look on Thorin’s face made him wary about being sorted into Slytherin.

“Aha,” cried the Hat, “impatient and impulsive, aren’t we? And you don’t want to be sorted into Slytherin? Well, in that case, better be, Gryffindor!”

In a daze, Kíli forgot to take off his hat. Amidst the laughter, he had to double back and hand it to a smiling Lady Galadriel before he walked to the Gryffindor table. He could hear the shouting and clapping of his new housemates and Gimli’s laughing face was most prominent amongst them. Returning Gimli’s smile, Kíli turned to the Ravenclaw table. Sure enough, Fíli’s warm smile and mirth-filled eyes found his immediately, warming Kíli’s inside more than anything else. He did it! He was not cast out of Hogwarts and was sorted into a great House. Even though he was a little disappointed that he and Fíli ended up in two Houses, Kíli vowed to spend as much time with his friend as possible. Judging by Fíli’s smile, the blond felt the same way.

The Gryffindor table consisted of around 40 students. Kíli noticed that unlike the Slytherin table, where students of the same year sat together with a clear gap between each year, everyone mingled amiably with each other here. Gimli sat opposite a strapping boy of Man with a silver badge of “P” on his chest. He smiled at Kíli and beckoned him to sit down next to Gimli. Next to the Prefect sat a very pretty red-haired Elf girl who was about a couple of years older than Kíli and Gimli. She gave Kíli a radiant smile and extended her elegant hand. “Hi, I’m Tauriel Silvan, 3rd year Elf. Nice to meet you, Kíli.”

“Hi,” said Kíli a little breathlessly. Again he was struck by the Elvish good looks but Tauriel’s was very different from that of Lady Galadriel’s. While the older lady, now Kíli’s head of House, was elegant and graceful, Tauriel was lively and feisty, with a hint of recklessness in her green eyes that Kíli immediately found very endearing. He shook the girl’s hand eagerly, “nice to meet you too, Tauriel.”

“Aragorn Elessar,” the Prefect next to Tauriel introduced himself, “5th year Man. I’m the Prefect of Gryffindor so I’ll be showing you around. You can always ask me if you have any questions or need anything.”

“I’ll be more than happy to help too,” interjected Tauriel enthusiastically while Aragorn shook his head in amusement. “Come on, Tauriel, we don’t want you to get the first years into trouble. You do that yourself plenty of time already.”

“Oh, come off it, Aragorn,” Tauriel punched Aragorn good-naturedly on the arm, “Somebody’s gotta show them around when you are off snogging Arwen.”

A faint blush appeared on Aragorn’s tanned face and Gimli sniggered. The Prefect cleared his throat and pointed towards a beautiful Elf in the Ravenclaw table with a similar “P” badge on her chest. “That’s my girlfriend, Arwen Peredhel. She’s an Elf in my year and a Prefect too. You’ll probably see her quite a bit. She, er, spends a lot of time in the Gryffindor Tower,” his blush deepened and Tauriel looked like she was fighting hard not to laugh. “Brilliant witch and very nice too. She will be more than happy to help you.”

“Yeah, we know Arwen is the best thing that ever walks on this earth since the invention of self-cleaning spells.” Tauriel rolled her eyes with a smirk before she turned to whisper conspiratorially at Gimli and Kíli. “Don’t get this one started on Arwen. He will gush about how great she is for hours on end.”

“I do NOT!” Aragorn cried indignantly but Tauriel cut him off again. “Oh, you so do! You can’t stop talking about how clever she is, how great her Charms works are, how nice she is, blah blah. I mean I get it. She’s going to be Head Girl and you’re going to be Head Boy and you’ll get married and have many perfect kids and be happily ever after. No need to repeat the same fantasy 100 times over.”

Aragorn mumbled something inaudible and Kíli laughed. He turned to look at Arwen again and honestly could not blame Aragorn for acting all besotted. The dark-haired Elf witch was extremely beautiful in the same way that Lady Galadriel was. She was currently engaged in conversation with a red-haired Dwarf first year, who looked a bit nervous. Next to the Dwarf sat Fíli, who caught Kíli’s eyes and beamed at him.

“The Dwarf boy talking to Arwen is Ori Luinson, the baby brother of Professor Nori Luinson of Divination and Mister Dori Luinson our Librarian,” said Tauriel who clearly knew everything about everyone. “We saw him a lot in the library so it’s no wonder that he’s sorted into Ravenclaw. Arwen’s dad is Professor Elrond Peredhel,” she pointed at an Elf with similar dark hair at the Staff table. “He’s the Charms professor and Head of Ravenclaw. He’s one of the most popular professors at Hogwarts, since he’s not as strict as Lady Galadriel and not as intimidating and cantankerous as Professor Thorin. You know Professor Thorin Oakenshield?”

Kíli sighed, “I know of him. He’s my friend Fíli’s uncle but I think he hates me.”

“Oh, join the club,” said Tauriel airily. “I’m pretty sure I’m at the top of his blacklist, being an Elf, a Gryffindor, and a clutz. I’m always convinced that I will die from Professor Thorin’s poison, or from my own potion actually.” She mused thoughtfully before shrugging. “Oh well. But seriously, Professor Thorin doesn’t like A LOT of people so don’t worry about it. I mean look at Professor Bilbo,” the little Hobbit was sitting next to Thorin and trying valiantly to engage the Dwarf in conversation, “the nicest person you’ll ever meet and after 5 years of attempts at friendship with Professor Thorin, our dear Potions Master still looks constipated in Professor Bilbo’s company.”

Chuckling slightly, Kíli felt a lot better about his situation. Maybe it was not about him. Perhaps Thorin was just overprotective of Fíli and didn’t want his nephew and heir to socialise with a stranger half-blood orphan. “I met Professor Bilbo in Diagon Alley. He’s really nice.”

“Oh, yes. He’s such a sweetheart,” sighed Tauriel in an almost motherly fashion that looked distinctly odd. “He’s Head of Hufflepuff and I heard they frequently have parties down in the kitchen. Could just be a rumour though. Speaking of Diagon Alley, who’s the staff that took you there?”

“Professor Dwalin Fundinson gave me my letter and took me to Diagon Alley.”

“Oh! Professor Dwalin,” Tauriel’s face lit up, “He’s MY favourite professor. Now I’m no swot but Defence Against the Dark Arts has always been my favourite subject. But dear me, isn’t Professor Dwalin the greatest warrior ever? He’s never afraid to show us the real deal or tell us his battle stories. He doesn’t treat us like children who need to be pampered and sheltered. To him, we’re all future fighters to be trained and honed. Not to mention his knuckle duster, his tattoos, and his musc…” Tauriel suddenly displayed a brilliant blush and cut herself short. “Anyway, he’s such a cool professor. You’ll be in for a treat in his class.”

By that point, dinner was served as all the first years had been sorted into their respective houses. There were 6 students in Gryffindor that year, 4 boys and 2 girls. From what Kíli could see, the other houses had similar distributions. Elves and Dwarves seemed to make up most of the students, while Hobbits were the rarest. A glance at the Slytherin table told Kíli that Legolas was sorted into their rivalry house, which was quite alright by him. To his secret delight, Kíli found Legolas surrounded by some ugly-looking boys who looked half human at best. The one next to Legolas, a fellow first-year, was particularly vile looking.

“That’s Bolg Gundabad,” muttered Gimli when he saw where Kíli was looking. “His dad is Azog Gundabad, a famous Death Eater. How he got off on all his charges is anyone’s guess. Some said that he claimed to be under the Imperius Curse and thus forced to do all those atrocities attributed to him,” Gimli scrunched up his nose in disgust. “Loads of rubbish if you ask me. Some of the things he did were just downright sick. You could say he’s even worse than Smaug Drake, the Dark Lord’s right-hand man.” 

Even though Kíli did not catch everything Gimli had said, he completely understood the sentiment. He knew it was wrong to judge someone by their appearance but that Bolg was one unpleasant-looking fella. “Why does this Bolg look so…” he tried to find the right word but Gimli nodded with understanding, “I know what you mean. Some say that the family of Gundabad has some Orc blood in them. Nobody actually knows who Bolg’s mother is. It’s not like anyone in her right mind wants to be with Azog the Defiler.”

Shuddering slightly, Kíli turned his attention back to the staff table. Thanks to Tauriel, he got to know more about the staff at Hogwarts. The rest was filled by Gimli, who practically grew up in Hogwarts, as his dad was the Arithmancy professor. Kíli found Dwalin talking to his brother Balin, the History of Magic professor. Next to Nori sat Dori, the fussy (according to Gimli anyway) Librarian who spent most of his time with his eyes fixed on poor Ori. The flying instructor was Bard Dale, who was apparently Bain Dale’s dad. His attention, however, was not on his first-year son. Instead, he was conversing politely with Celeborn Lothlórien, Lady Galadriel’s husband and the Astronomy professor. Kíli did not pay the Moria cousins too much attention since Bifur Moria taught Ancient Runes - Khuzdûl while Bofur Moria taught Muggle Studies so Kíli would not need to interact with them for at least two years. The same went for Glorfindel Gondolin, their Ancient Runes - Quenya professor, although Kíli did spare him an extra glance because he was an attractive Elf. There were two empty seats in the staff table, which was rather prominent yet nobody commented on it.

“Bombur Moria is the older brother of Professor Bofur,” said Gimli. “He’s the Head Chef of Hogwarts and therefore almost never at the staff table at mealtimes. I wonder why they even keep him a seat. The other one absent is Professor Dáin Ironfoot. He’s, er…”

“Fighting with Erumpent?” provided Kíli helpfully.

Gimli’s face lit up. “Blimey? Did you see anything on your way here? That must be so cool. I can’t believe I missed that! It’ll be worth sailing through the Black Lake just for that.”

“I’m sure you would but most sane people will stay clear off Professor Dáin and his beasts,” Tauriel said though with a grin. “Honestly, I don’t get him. I mean it’s one thing to be fascinated by magical creatures, quite another to have a suicidal wish to try to tame the most dangerous ones.”

Gimli laughed. “Well, it’s an acquired taste. But I reckon most people agree with you. Poor Thorin.”

“Thorin?”

“Thorin Stonehelm-Ironfoot. He’s a fellow first year and he’s in Hufflepuff,” Gimli pointed towards the Hufflepuff table and Kíli saw a red-haired Dwarf boy there, looking anxiously at the staff table every now and then. “He’s Professor Dáin’s son and I can’t imagine what sort of life that is. Imagine growing up with a Kappa in your own swimming pool.” Tauriel shuddered while Gimli’s eyes were filled with longing. “How cool can that be!”

Kíli had no idea what a Kappa was but he doubted it was the Italian sportswear brand that sponsored the Italian National Football team. Even though everyone made it sound horrible, Kíli would still be more than willing to snog a Kappa if that meant growing up with his parents in their own home. He kept that to himself though.

Halfway through dinner, a loud noise outside the Great Hall made everyone whip around, only to witness a blackened Dwarf crashing through the front gate.

“Mahal’s pants,” cried Gimli as he climbed up his bench to get a better look, the grin on his face barely containing his glee. “It’s Professor Dáin. Look at Thorin Stonehelm-Ironfoot’s face.” Sure enough, the poor Dwarf first year in Hufflepuff was blushing so hard that his face was the same colour as his hair. 

After quite a commotion where Dáin staggered towards the staff table, leaving soot everywhere, and promptly collapsed on his seat - “Erumpent, I ask you!” Aragorn’s incredulous look was echoed on almost everyone’s face - Professor Gandalf finally stood up to make the start of term speech. Stuffed with delicious food, Kíli found his eyelid drooping and his head heavy. At some point, he blearily realised that a shifty-looking Man with oily dark hair had risen from the staff table to acknowledge the students. “That’s Alfrid Lickspittle, the caretaker.” The frown on Tauriel’s pretty face spelt her distaste clearly. “Nasty little man, picking on students all the time for petty things. Avoid him and his blasted cat Mister Lock at all costs. He could give you a detention for breathing too loudly around that stupid cat.” 

Finally, the speech was over. Kíli rose up gratefully and followed Aragorn out of the Great Hall. He caught Fíli’s eyes in the Ravenclaw crowd and the blond looked as if he wanted to say something. Before Kíli could figure out what Fíli wanted, however, they were herded forward by their respective Prefects to their own dormitories and Kíli felt his heart sink. He had hoped to at least speak to Fíli about the Sorting and it seemed like the blond wanted the same. Now more than ever, Kíli realised that he could not spend as much time with his new friend as he wanted, which made him fear that their newly-found friendship might suffer. What if Fíli found someone more interesting and clever in Ravenclaw to be friends with? Maybe he wanted to spend more time with Ori, who was a fellow Dwarf and family of Hogwarts professors just like Fíli. Would he still want to spend time with Kíli? He must! Kíli told himself firmly. He might grow up in a Muggle orphanage but that would make him more interesting than the Purebloods, especially if Legolas’s behaviours were anything to go by. Lost in his thoughts, Kíli did not pay attention to his steps and nearly fell when the staircases they were standing on started to move.

“There are many trick stairs and passages in Hogwarts,” said Aragorn in a serious tone. “The staircases change randomly too so it will be a bit hard to find your way around. Always find an upperclassman to go with you until you know exactly where to go. Here we are. Welcome to Gryffindor Tower.” Standing guard at the entrance was the portrait of a Fat Lady. She smiled imperiously at Aragorn, who bowed slightly before giving her the password, toadstool, and she swung open, revealing a spacious common room with a cosy fireplace and many stuffed armchairs. The dormitories were on the side and Kíli climbed the stairs reluctantly to finally get to his dorm.

Luckily, Kíli got to share the room with Gimli. Their luggage was already brought up to the room. Kíli really could not bother to unpack. The long journey, the excitement of the day, and the amazing food made the four-poster bed the most enticing thing ever at the moment. Succumbing to his desire, Kíli crashed on it, mumbled a quick goodnight to Gimli, and drifted to sleep immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though I know that it will make the plot progress easier if Fíli and Kíli are in the same house but I just can't see that happening, at least not with the Fíli I have in my head :) I also kept the number of students per year small so everyone shares the same class.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first day of school had finally come. It's time for Kíli and his friends to learn some real magic.

_ He was standing in front of Hogwarts Express, hugging his dad, who looked exactly like him, and his mum, a beautiful witch with wavy long red-hair and captivating dark eyes. They kissed him goodbye before he boarded the train with Fíli, laughing and excited as they waved at their parents.  _

“Wave up, Kíli! It’s 7:30 already and we’ll be late for breakfast.”

Opening his eyes reluctantly, Kíli found Gimli’s face right in front of his, a tad too close perhaps. He mumbled a quick thanks to his roommate nonetheless. The bed felt so comfortable and the dream so good that he did not want to get up. Steeling himself, Kíli pushed himself out of bed to take a quick shower. To his immense gratitude and slight surprise, Gimli was waiting for him in the dormitory rather than going to breakfast himself.

“Don’t mention it, mate,” waved Gimli airily. “You looked pretty out of it last night so I figure you’ll need some help finding the Great Hall. Besides, it’s not that late. We’ve still got time.”

They made it to the Great Hall at 8 and it was already filled with students. According to Gimli, breakfast started at 7:30 and lasted until 9, when the first class started. They settled themselves at the end of the table and were immediately joined by Fíli, who arrived at their table with the red-haired Ravenclaw first year, Ori.

“Hey,” Fíli greeted them briskly with a wide smile, “how was your first night at Hogwarts?” This was addressed mainly at Kíli and the brunet grinned back at his friend. After a quick introduction, Gimli and Ori quickly got into their conversation, as they knew each other already, while Fíli sat down next to Kíli and grabbed a plate for breakfast.

“Is it alright for you to eat at the Gryffindor table?” asked Kíli mildly surprised though very pleased.

“Sure,” shrugged Fíli. “I mean technically I should eat with my House but nobody really cares unless it’s important occasions like Start and End-of-Term feasts. Besides, I was worried about you. I never get to ask how your injuries were last night.”

His friend’s obvious concern for him filled Kíli with so much warmth that he felt that he could withstand any injuries and pain. Yet truth be told, his ribs were still a bit tender. “We will visit the hospital wing as soon as we get the chance today,” Fíli said with a tone brooking no refusal. “Mister Oín will sort you out. You can’t go on with bruises and pain, especially when we have flying lessons coming up!”

Flying! Just the idea of it was exciting enough. “Have you been on a broom before?” Kíli asked curiously.

“Fíli is a great flyer!” chipped in Ori, while Gimli enthusiastically agreed. “Too bad first years cannot try out for Quidditch teams. I’m sure he’ll make it next year though.”

The slight pink hue on Fíli’s face was quite adorable, as the blond tried to downplay his talent. Kíli looked at his friend in amazement, for he seemed to be good at everything. He only wished he could be like that.

“Don’t worry,” Gimli assured Kíli while stuffing a giant sausage into his mouth. “My dad never let me fly so I reckon I’m rubbish at it. Ori here is terrified of anything that moves unless it grows out of the soil.” “Am NOT!” “Are Too!” Gimli turned back to Kíli while Ori pouted. “So it’s alright if you’re not good at it. A lot of the Dwarves aren’t. I mean, we make decent Beaters and stuff but that’s just strength talking. We’re kind of heavy and would much prefer staying on the ground.”

A sudden noise from above diverted Kíli’s attention. As he looked up, hundreds of owls and ravens fluttered into the Great Hall, dropping letters and packages to their owners. A handsome raven stopped in front of Fíli, looked around imperiously, before sticking out his leg with a letter attached. Fíli rolled his eyes at the bird’s antics but took the letter and patted his messenger affectionately.

“Uncle insisted on training all the family ravens,” muttered Fíli as he opened the letter, clearly from his mother, “said that he wanted to make sure they are up for the job. The only problem is, he imbued a bit too much of his personality into these birds.”

Gimli laughed. “Is that why all your birds have a resting bitch face?”

“Gimli!”

“It’s true,” Gimli said as he ripped his letter haphazardly. “I’ve never been attacked, or scorned for that mattered, so viciously by a bird before.”

Fíli sighed. “Sometimes I do feel like I’m facing uncle’s disapproving gaze, especially when I send something slightly dodgy.” Kíli snickered. His Keeper hadn’t had much to do yet. Truth be told, he had no idea who he could write to. He guessed he could write to Madam McGonagall, though he doubted their relationship had progressed to the level of regular correspondence. As for his friends at the orphanage, none of them knew for sure that Kíli was going to a school for wizards. Madam McGonagall had decided to keep it a secret until Kíli returned to the orphanage. Him delivering a letter using a raven would be a bit of a giveaway. He had to figure something out.

“Hey, mum asked about you,” said Fíli as he read through the letter. “She wanted to know how your ribs are and how you like Gryffindor,” he shot Kíli an abashed look, “I wrote to her last night about the sorting and told her you’re in Gryffindor. She sounded very pleased.”

“Wow, I mean, thanks,” Kíli stuttered, surprised by the fine lady’s kindness. “She’s too kind.”

“Pray you’re never at the receiving end of her temper,” quipped Gimli, who tossed his letter so casually that it landed in Ori’s porridge. “She’s downright frightening, I tell you. My buttocks can testify for that.”

“That’s because you never stop causing mayhem,” Ori said, as he scrunched up his nose and picked Gimli’s letter gingerly out of his porridge. “I’m so glad Professor Gloín never gave you a broomstick or a practice wand. You’d have razed the whole Diagon Alley to the ground.”

Fíli laughed while Gimli and Ori were engaged in a fierce staring contest. “Gim has a point. Uncle may be the brooding strict head of House in appearance, but when push comes to shove, mum’s one you need to watch out for. Uncle and Dwalin combined are no match for her.”

At the staff table, Dwalin gave Kíli a broad smile before downing a large cup of coffee unceremoniously, causing Bilbo next to him to sigh with both exasperation and fondness. One thing Kíli noticed was that Dwarves seemed to care very little about table manners, or manners in general. Everywhere in the Great Hall, Dwarves were found shoving down food and drinks with such fervour that they looked as if they had been starved for months. In fact, the only ones with some sense of propriety were Thorin Oakenshield and Fíli. 

“You should eat more,” prompted Gimli as he stuffed two more muffins together. Kíli was amazed at how clearly his words came out. There did not seem to be enough space for that. “You’ll need your strength for today. Here,” he dumped a dozen sausages into Kíli’s plate and brunet stared open-mouthed.

“Dwarves have a very good appetite, especially compared to Men and Elves,” grinned Ori at the horrified looks on Kíli’s face. “So do Hobbits thus don’t be alarmed. It’s perfectly normal. But Gimli is right though. You do need your strength. The first day of school will be tough.”

“Speaking like a true wise Dwarf,” sniggered Tauriel, who just walked to their end of the table to pass them their timetables. “Aragorn should be the one doing it but he’s busy putting out the fire Elladan and Elrohir started.” Kíli was astonished to find that Tauriel meant it quite literally. Small flames erupted from the other end of the Gryffindor table, causing a disturbance as people shrieked to get away while a pair of dark-hair Elves cackled wildly. “Troublemakers those two,” Tauriel shook her head. “Twins in their 6th years. Poor Aragorn. He’s not willing to go too hard on them since they’re Arwen’s older brothers.”

“Won’t Professor Elrond keep his sons in line?” Kíli asked curiously. He could only imagine what Madam McGonagall would do if one dared to set anything on fire in the orphanage.

“It’s not really his job, being the Head of Ravenclaw, not Gryffindor,” said Tauriel. “Lady Galadriel will take care of it.”

“Besides, Arwen will teach them a good lesson,” snickered Gimli. “It’s always the ladies that you’ve got to watch out for.”

“You know what, I like you!” Tauriel beamed at Gimli. “Professor Gloín is lucky to have you as his son and heir.”

All the first years share the same classes, which Kíli was extremely grateful for. He was banking on Fíli to help him out of tight spots. They started Wednesday with double Defence Against Dark Arts, followed by a single History of Magic. After lunch, they would have double Transfiguration but then free until dinner. At night was their first single Astronomy Practice class. Kíli was glad that he was at least well-rested for the day.

“This doesn’t look too bad,” commented Fíli, “double Transfiguration could be hard but Defence Against Dark Arts will be fun! Too bad we don’t have flying today but it’s probably for the best since you’re still hurting.”

With 20 minutes until the start of the first class, they reluctantly (at least on Gimli’s side) left the Great Hall. Kíli thought it was a bit of an overkill to leave 20 minutes early but he soon realised why. Given his stupor the night before, Kíli certainly would not count on himself to find the way. He did, however, had rather high hopes for Fíli, Gimli, and Ori, as at least two of them grew up in Hogwarts and Fíli spent a good amount of time here, not to mention that he was, well, Fíli. Yet his expectations were clearly too high. Being the baby brother, Ori was never allowed to explore anywhere on his own and he spent most of his time in the Library. Gimli did his fair share of exploring, except that he ended up more lost than not. After running into a wall pretending to be a door the third time, Fíli had had enough and decided to take charge.

“But the Defence classroom is in the West Wing,” argued Gimli, “we need to turn right!”

“Gim,” said Fíli with thinly veiled impatience, “if we turn right, we’re going east, not to mention running into a wall, again… We need to turn left.”

“Gimli had the worst sense of direction ever,” whispered Ori, “except he doesn’t know it, or isn’t willing to admit it. Usually, when we need to go somewhere, we just ask him for direction and go the other way. It works every single time!”

Kíli laughed despite his mounting worries. He had no wish to be late for his first class!

“It’s okay. We’ll make it. Professor Dwalin won’t be mad if we’re just a couple of minutes late. He understands.” Fíli tried his best to assure Kíli. 

“He’s right, you know,” The portrait of a wizard trying to tame a man/lion/scorpion hybrid (“That’s a manticore, an extremely dangerous beast. The only right thing to do in front of a manticore is to run for your life unless you’re Professor Dáin of course!”), which startled them all, “No need to stress.”

It was nice to hear assurances, except it was from someone as delusional as Dáin, which didn’t exactly fill Kíli with confidence. Luckily, they finally found the classroom with just 3 minutes to spare.

The classroom was already filled with first years and Dwalin was busy arranging his notes. He grinned at Kíli’s little group, as he knew all of them already, but did not say anything to indicate his favouritism. Once everyone was settled, Dwalin closed the door with a wave of the wand.

“Welcome, lads, to not only yer first Defence Against Dark Arts class but also yer very first class in magic. I’m Professor Dwalin Fundinson and yeh can call me Professor Dwalin. Now, I know there’s usually a tad more enthusiasm for this class than some others,” Dwalin’s lip twitched up suspiciously. “Although I highly appreciate the fervour, it also tends to make the class a bit more accident-prone than normal. I would ask yeh to exercise caution and restraints. Don’t yeh worry. Yeh’ll all be working your butts off in my class, if yeh want to be the warriors that yeh dream of. Now,” with a casual flick of the wand, everyone’s  _ The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection _ opened to Chapter 1, “we’ll start today’s class with a bit of history of the Dark Magic.”

The rest of the class went on quite smoothly. Dwalin was a captivating storyteller. His vivid tales of significant events in the history of Dark Magic kept them all on the edge of their seats. Kíli soon learned that it took a lot of work and effort to be able to cast a powerful protective spell. They spent the rest of the class trying to control their magic.

“Let the magic flow through yer body,” said Dwalin loudly as everyone struggled to contain the still rampant magic in their bodies. “Conjecture the positive feelings in yeh and channel them into yer magic. Once yeh have good control over them, try to release them slowly through yer wand. Increase them slowly but cautiously.”

Next to him, Fíli’s wand started to glow a faint silvery light, which was the best progress made by anyone so far. Gimli’s was erupting red sparks randomly while Ori’s was still dead quiet to the great frustration of the small redhead. Several tables across from them sat the Slytherins. Legolas caught Kíli’s eyes and gave him a contemptuous look. Bolg, the possible half Orc, next to him was frowning at his wand, which eventually shot out of his hand and poked him in the nose.

Grinning, Kíli returned to his task at hand. His wand twitched slightly but no light came out. In fact, Kíli found it quite hard to concentrate.

“Clear yer mind and focus, laddie,” Dwalin’s gruff voice came from behind and Kíli snapped his head around to look at the Dwarf. “Yeh have to go inside yer own self to feel yer magical core. Forget the outside world and connect with it, Kíli. I know yeh can do it. Try to imagine the state yeh were in when yeh made that teacup fly into yer hand.”

Kíli closed his eyes and tried. He tried to tune out all the outside noise and just feel. Finally, he could sense his magic slowly calm down and he started to wield it, making it flow through his body until it concentrated on his fingertip. He then pushed it through his wand and…

“Wow,” Fíli’s gasp shook Kíli out of his meditation. His wand was now glowing brightly, brighter than anyone else’s. Perking up immediately, Kíli gave Fíli a brilliant smile and soon paid for his momentary distraction as the light flickered and died. From the Slytherin table, Legolas laughed unkindly.

“That’s what happens when yer distracted, laddie,” smirked Dwalin, though Kíli could tell from the glint in his eyes that he was more amused than angry. “Yeh will need to learn to multitask if yeh want to avoid it. It takes some serious practice but I’d like ya to try.” His eyes fixed on Kíli with an encouraging smile. “What yeh just did was very good but I want ya to really push yerself. Now try it again but this time, lower the brightness by controlling yer magical output. Try to consciously hold some back.”

Taking a deep breath, Kíli slowly released his magic again but withheld some from his wand this time. The resulting light was much dimmer and Dwalin beamed. “Excellent work, Kíli. Two points to Gryffindor. Now keep practising.”

By the end of the class, Kíli and Fíli were still the only two who could properly control their magic, while Legolas was a distant third with flickering lights out of his wand every now and then. Dwalin assured the class that it was perfectly normal for their first class and assigned them some reading and an essay on the topic of controlling defensive magic. Completely drained yet very excited, Kíli thanked Dwalin for his help on his way out.

“Don’t mention it, laddie,” laughed Dwalin. “Yeh were brilliant in class. I told ya yeh’ve got nothing to worry about. Now I have to run to another class, but I’d love to catch up later to know how yeh’re settling in. I’ll send Grasper.”

Feeling positively giddy, Kíli rushed to catch up with his friends, skipping like an over-excited bunny. Ori rolled his eyes good-naturedly and Gimli snickered. Fíli, however, seemed to find Kíli’s antics rather adorable.

“Feeling pleased with yourself?” Legolas’s haughty voice spoilt Kíli’s good mood almost instantly. “Never thought that a dirty little Half Dwarf can even do magic.”

Everyone whirled around, Gimli being the fastest. Before Kíli even realised, Gimli was standing right in front of Legolas, his fist raised. Legolas, however, was prepared this time. Next to him, Bolg and two other extremely ugly yet very large Slytherin boys stepped up and blocked Gimli’s access to Legolas.

“We’re even this time, Gimli Azanulbizar.” The smirk on Legolas’s face tainted his handsome face. “Now you can’t just punch people in the face like a dirty Muggle. Maybe that’s why you like the little half Muggle here.” Legolas shot another disdained look at Kíli.

“Yet you were the one who could not so much as send a spark out of his wand.” Fíli’s cool reply might be a tad exaggerated but it wiped the smirk from Legolas’s face so Kíli could not complain. “So who’s talking here?”

Before Legolas could retort back, Arwen had emerged from around the corner. “Is everything alright?” Her beautiful eyebrows rose delicately when she took in the scene in front of her, Gimli standing in front of the human wall blocking him and Legolas, while everyone had their wand raised.

If Arwen’s presence alone was not enough to persuade Legolas, the arrival of her twin brothers certainly was. Judging by the evil grin on their faces, this was not their first encounter with the Slytherin Elf. Kíli noted with glee on how Legolas shifted uneasily. He hoped that the twins had traumatised Legolas enough because he could not think of anyone more deserving.

History of Magic was taught by Dwalin’s older brother, Professor Balin. He was a wise-looking Dwarf with a spectacular long white beard and thick white eyebrows. He smiled at the students kindly like a doting grandfather and Kíli felt at ease in his presence almost immediately. His class was surprisingly engaging, if not as thrilling as Dwalin’s. Kíli listened with great interest about the myths of the origin of magic and the earliest wizards with their adventures. It sounded like they were a lot more daring back in the days, with wild dangerous magical creatures roaming around freely, causing constant battles and fights that inspired many legendary tales.

Lunch was served at noon, which was as delicious as any other meal. The morning classes had left Kíli so ravenous that he forwent all his manners to devour the food. He would have been ashamed, especially since Fíli next to him at least remained somewhat civilised, yet he could not find it in him to care. Next to him, Gimli had his whole face buried so deep in the soup that Kíli wondered how he had not drowned yet.

At the staff table, Kíli caught Dwalin talking animatedly with Thorin, who gave his old friend a rare smile that lit up his handsome features nicely. Catching Kíli’s eyes, Dwalin beamed at him. Thorin’s blue eyes followed Dwalin’s and landed on Kíli. Unsurprisingly, his smile turned to a scowl, which erased the smile on Kíli’s face instantly. Confused and hurt, the brunet dropped his gaze, thus missing the disapproving look Fíli sent his uncle and the reprimand Dwalin gave his old friend.

The afternoon’s double Transfiguration was hard for Kíli. For one thing, he found himself ready to succumb to a pleasant food coma. For another, Transfiguration was notoriously difficult. Much more precise than charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts, the subject was daunting and Kíli found himself struggling with the details. He also found Lady Galadriel’s unearthly beauty just a tad distracting. More than a couple of times he was completely lost in her elegant moves, her sleek long hair, and her slender build rather than paying attention to her lecture. Fíli had to poke him hard on the ribs to bring him out of his reverie.

“Ouch,” cried Kíli after a particularly hard stab and glared at his blond friend, who did not seem apologetic at all. Git. 

“Pay attention!” Fíli hissed. “Lady Galadriel is talking about the Transformation Formula, which is the basis of all transfiguration spells.”

“The what?” Kíli asked bewildered, having missed pretty much the entire lecture. Gimli had to suppress his laughter while Ori, ever the good student, rolled his eyes. Fíli, on the other hand, looked rather annoyed. “For Merlin’s sake, Kíli! Stop drooling over Lady Professor Galadriel and pay attention to the class. You’re going to fail if you don’t.”

After this, Kíli’s attention improved ever so lightly. Still, when it came to the actual practice, turning a match into a needle, he was as clueless as when he received his Hogwarts letter. Turning desperately to Fíli, he whispered, “please Fíli, I have no idea what to do. How are you supposed to transform this anyway?”

Ignoring his plea for help, Fíli replied coolly, “you would know if you had been paying attention in class. You can read about the formula in Chapter 1. It’s not that complicated.”

Brilliant, thought Kíli grumpily, Fíli had refused to help him and there was no way he could figure this out on his own. Flipping through the pages of the textbook, Kíli tried his hardest but the concept of the formula was still foggy. As a result, his match looked resolutely wooden by the end of the double period, which was rather depressing. Fíli was the only one who managed to transform the match, even though not completely. His match was showing the metal shine with a pointy end. Lady Galadriel gave him a mesmerising smile along with 2 points to Ravenclaw. Fíli, however, did not seem that pleased.

They had a free period and a break before dinner. Gimli was all for going to explore the ground and maybe go and visit Dáin. “We don’t have to hand in our Transfiguration homework until next Monday! Surely we can finish our essays for Defence Against Dark Arts tonight.”

Kíli was all for that. He needed some distraction after the disastrous Transfiguration lesson. Fíli, however, was forever the voice of reason. “I don’t think you should go.” He said to Kíli without a smile on his handsome face. “You really need to get started on the Transfiguration essay and practice more.”

“Come on, Fíli.” Gimli clapped a friendly hand on Fíli’s back, “give the lad a break. We’re all going.”

Fíli did not waver. “You and Ori did okay during Transfiguration while Kíli,” his sideways glance made Kíli feel ashamed of himself, “learnt practically nothing. He needed to put in the extra work.

As much as Kíli hated the idea, he had to agree that Fíli had a point. Bidding them an unhappy goodbye, he trudged reluctantly back to the Gryffindor Common, which felt long and lonely, until someone patted him on the shoulder. Snapping his head back, he saw Fíli panting, trying to catch his breath. Shocked by his friend’s return, Kíli burst out, “But you… Why did you…?”

“Oh,” Fíli waved his hand airily, “I’ve spent enough time in Hogwarts ground from my visits to Thorin and let’s face it, my chances of survival are better doing homework with you than out there with Dáin and his so-called magical creatures. Besides, I figured you might need some help with your transfiguration homework.”

“But you refused to help me in class,” Kíli tried but his tone still came across accusatory. His petulant pout did not help either. Fortunately, Fíli did not take offence. “I wanted you to pay attention in class,” said the blond seriously. “Transfiguration is hard and you really can’t rely on me to get you out of trouble without putting in the proper effort. But that doesn’t mean I won’t help you though. Well,” Fíli’s face suddenly turned pink, “that and your puppy dog eyes. You looked so sad when you said goodbye to us that I just, well…” his voice trailed off at the radiant smile on Kíli’s face. Acting on his impulse, Kíli wrapped his arm around Fíli’s shorter but much broader frame and dragged him forward. Fíli mumbled something unintelligible but followed without protest.

The afternoon study session proved to be extremely fruitful. They started with their Transfiguration essay, which soon turned out to be Fíli re-teaching the Transfiguration lesson to Kíli. The blond turned out to be a very good teacher, as he was both patient and good at translating complex theories into common English. 

“So basically, 5 factors affect your transformation. The first one is how much you weigh. A Dwarf and an Elf, for instance, will have very different transformation effects if everything else is the same. The second one is viciousness, in other words, how aggressive you are with the transformation. More aggression is not necessarily better. It’s all about the right amount of magic. Then your wand power matters. The more powerful your wand is and more importantly, the more compatible you are with your wand, the better. The fourth factor is concentration, which is pretty much a requirement for any kind of magic. It’s just that Transfiguration requires a lot more and more attention to details. Finally, there’s a fifth unknown factor that varies from object to object.”

Scribbling down what Fíli was saying, Kíli flipped through the textbook, which made more sense now. They then proceeded to practice and Fíli guided him through patiently until… “Hey, is my match shining?” Kíli exclaimed excitedly when he noticed the first change of his match.

“I think it is,” Fíli picked up the match and felt it, “It’s definitely harder now, like a metal. Here.” Overcome with joy, Kíli threw his arms around Fíli to give him a tight hug. “Thank you so much, Fíli! I couldn’t have done it without you. You’re the best!” Blushing slightly, Fíli returned the hug with a bright smile. 

By the time Gimli and Ori joined them at the Great Hall for dinner, Kíli had already made some good progress with his transfiguration essay and practice. They were also halfway through their Defence Against Dark Arts essay, which Kíli felt a lot more comfortable with. Gimli and Ori, on the other hand, did not look so well. Both of their robes were singed and they had soot and cuts on their hands and face.

“Sweet Mahal,” cried Fíli in alarm. “What happened? Please tell me Professor Dáin didn’t ask you to look after the Erumpent!”

“No,” said Gimli distractedly, as he thumped on his robe to put out a small fire. Kíli jumped and scrambled out of harm’s way to sit behind Fíli. “Even Professor Dáin is not THAT crazy. No, we just had a healthy dose of fire crabs…”

“That sounds…” Kíli tried but could not find the right word, “well, it must be… er, hot?” Next to him, Fíli almost choked on his pumpkin juice.

“Easy for you to say,” replied Ori grumpily. “We had to chase them around because Professor Dáin wanted to round them up so he could get them next to the manticore.”

Really choking this time, Fíli’s face turned red and Kíli hastened to thump him on the back. Looking seriously alarmed, Fíli gasped out, “where in the name of Merlin did Dáin get a manticore and why is it in Hogwarts? Sweet Mahal, why does he want fire crabs next to the manticore?”

“Dunno,” shrugged Gimli, grabbing two large chicken legs and stuffing them both into his mouth. His next sentences turned out muffled. “We didn’t really have time to ask or think about it, to be honest. We were a bit preoccupied, you see.”

“Maybe he wanted to let them duel it out and finish each other,” provided Ori hopefully, though there was little conviction in his voice. 

“You know Professor Dáin would never do that,” sighed Fíli. “He cherishes the viciousness of beasts rather than fears them as any sane person should. I just hope that he won’t do anything stupid. That Ashwinder fiasco is bad enough.”

After dinner, Gimli and Ori hurried to their respective common rooms to take a shower. Kíli and Fíli went back to the Study Hall to finish their Defence Against Dark Arts essay. They were soon joined by Gimli and Ori and the four stayed there until it was time to leave for their first Astronomy class in the Astronomy Tower, which was the tallest tower of the school.

“I hate these stairs,” complained Gimli as he dragged himself up those long windy stairs. “Whoever designed it certainly did not take Dwarves into consideration.” Next to him, Ori and Fíli did not fare much better, their short and stout stature not helping matters at all. Kíli, on the other hand, had no such problem. He got to the top of the stairs first and turned to look as his friends struggled, grinning triumphantly.

“You little git,” snapped Gimli without real malice, “there’s no need to be so smug about it.”

Astronomy was taught by the other Lothlórien, Professor Celeborn, Lady Galadriel’s husband. He had the same ethereal beauty as his wife, but not much of her warmth and compassion. Standing regal and aloof, he merely nodded at the students to acknowledge their arrival before starting the class without so much as a warm welcome. Luckily, the class was interesting enough to make up for Professor Celeborn’s lack of enthusiasm. They looked into the telescopes to watch the stars, something Kíli used to do in the garden of the orphanage, except without the telescope. The nightly sky had always fascinated him. They also learned some theories of astronomy, which was far less interesting. Kíli was surprised to learn that they needed to do maths as a wizard too. He was never particularly good at maths when he was in elementary school so he doubted that his mathematical ability would improve much as a Wizard. Luckily, the other Wizards, especially the non-Dwarves, were even worse.

By the time Astronomy was over, it was already 11 o’clock. Outside the classroom, they were delighted to find Dwalin waiting for them. “I’m here to help Professor Celeborn escort yeh back to yer common room. Yeh don’t want to be found wandering around in the castle after curfew, do ya? Now Gryffindors and Slytherins, follow me.”

Kíli was much pleased with their appointed professor escort. He did not think walking along the imperious Professor Celeborn in the dark castle would be much fun. What he did not enjoy, however, was the separation from Fíli and Ori, not to mention a long walk alongside Legolas.

The blond still looked as haughty and aloof as ever. With a teacher around, however, he did not dare to do much. When his eyes caught Kíli’s, he merely scowled and gave the brunet a disdained look before looking away. He did not seem too pleased with Dwalin as their chaperon either. The look he gave Dwalin was highly distrustful and he made sure to stay out of the reach of the Dwarf professor.

“What on earth is his problem?” hissed Kíli, ever annoyed by the Slytherin’s attitude. It was one thing not to like him, quite another to dislike Dwalin, a war hero who was a good and fair professor.

“That’s because he’s a royal pain in the arse and a total wanker,” Gimli said in contempt. “His father, Thranduil, is basically public enemy number 1 amongst Dwarves. He’s also an arrogant bastard who thinks he is the greatest being to ever walk on this earth. I won’t be surprised that he preaches the same nonsense to Legolas. I mean, I know that our ancestors had some bad blood with the Elves and we never really see eye to eye with each other afterwards. But you can still find friendly relations between Dwarves and Elves. Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond, for instance, have always treated us fairly and with respect, a gesture we make sure to reciprocate. Even Thorin does that, though he wasn’t too happy about it. Not everyone’s as nice but at least they aren’t arseholes like Thranduil His Royal Snobness.”

That explained a lot, thought Kíli. He could hardly find it in his heart to feel sorry for Legolas, however, who in his opinion was nothing more than a bigoted spoilt rich child. Dwalin didn’t seem to mind the Slytherin’s attitude. His focus was solely on Kíli.

“Alright, lad?” he asked Kíli while patting him roughly on the shoulder, almost sending Kíli face forward into a wall. “Still holding up fine after yer first day?” Kíli nodded, giving the elder Dwarf a brilliant smile, which made Dwalin chortle. “Good. Now off to bed all of ya. No sneaking around on yer first day!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to improvise and invent some magical theories here because there's not a lot of information I can gather about that. Hopefully it makes sense and doesn't sound too silly.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charms, Flying, and a bit of Thorin.

Waking up early after a late Astronomy evening class was not easy. But thanks to Gimli, who seemed to have way more energy than any reasonable person, Kíli managed to get to the Great Hall in time. Fíli, of course, was already there. He beamed at Kíli and joined him at the Gryffindor table immediately.

“You know,” commented Tauriel casually, “you should just join the Gryffindor House and be done with it. It’ll save you all the trouble of going between tables and dormitories.”

Rolling his eyes, Fíli shrugged good-naturedly. “I’m just trying to balance out the Gryffindor/Ravenclaw student numbers. Since Aragorn spends most of his time at our table, I figure I should do the same for Gryffindor so you won’t be outnumbered.”

Sure enough, the dark-haired Prefect could be seen sitting next to Arwen while talking quietly with each other. Tauriel giggled. “I guess you’ve got a point. How was your first day by the way?”

Kíli reassured her that everything went quite well and told her what happened at his first Defence Against Dark Arts class. He might have forgotten to mention Legolas’s behaviour and definitely neglected to mention the happenings at Transfiguration, earning him a smirk from Gimli.

“That was really good for your first try at Defence,” exclaimed Tauriel, looking genuinely impressed. “I figure you have a real talent in this. I couldn’t make anything come out of mine for a solid two weeks.” She finished the last bit of her breakfast quickly and rose from her seat. “Sorry. Got to go. I still need to finish the conclusion of my Potions essay. Professor Thorin would have my head if I don’t. See ya.”

Thursday went by fast. They started the day with double Herbology at Greenhouse One. Professor Bilbo was already working there, his robes covered with soil and what looked suspiciously like manure. Legolas wrinkled his nose to show his disgust, which earned him a glare from Kíli. He could not imagine someone more annoying than Legolas, even if he did have a pretty face.

Once the class started, however, nobody was paying Professor Bilbo’s attire any attention. The small Hobbit was warm, witty, and extremely knowledgeable about all sorts of magical plants. He showed the class how to recognise and take care of Moly, a powerful plant that could protect against dark enchantment. They were grouped into pairs, Fíli and Kíli sticking together while Gimli partnered with Ori, and Professor Bilbo walked amongst them, correcting them of their techniques with patience and kindness.

They’d got a free period before lunch to make up for the late-night Astronomy class the day before. Kíli desperately wanted to go back to Gryffindor Tower to take a nap but Fíli offered to show him around the ground properly this time. Not wishing to pass up this opportunity, Kíli agreed eagerly so the pair set off to explore the Hogwarts ground.

“Mister Radagast Brown lives there,” Fíli pointed towards a little hut right outside the Forbidden Forest. “He looks after all the animals and plants in the Forbidden Forest and he’s always inside. We can stop by during the weekends. He’s really nice and will tell you all the stories about the Forest. This is the Whomping Willow.” The tall willow tree standing in front of them seemed quiet to Kíli but before he could get a closer look, Fíli dragged him away from the tree. “It will activate if you get too close and trust me, you don’t want an encounter with the Whomping Willow on your second day of school. Gimli was once stupid enough to get close and he told me that his right buttock was never the same.” Chortling, Kíli made a mental note to avoid the trees at all costs, until he had found a safe way around it that was. He appreciated his buttocks too much, thank you very much.

The other side of the Hogwarts ground was reserved for flying-related activities. Fíli introduced Kíli to their Flying instructor, Professor Bard Dale. He was a tall Man with dark eyes, tanned skin, dark wavy hair and a muscular build. The sombre look and worry lines did little to tarnish his handsome face. If anything, it gave him a ruggedly handsome look. He smiled at both of them kindly. “Sure, you can take a look around. Just don’t go into the broom shed. I don’t want any accidents before we even start our first Flying lesson. I heard you’re a good flyer though, is that right, Fíli?”

Ever modest, Fíli turned a lovely shade of pink. “I’m alright, I suppose.”

Bard smiled. “From what Dwalin has told me, you’re more than alright. Well, in any case, we’ll see this afternoon, won’t we? How are your first days at Hogwarts? Bain told me it was more exciting and stressful than he had thought.”

The conversation went on, with most of the talking done by Fíli and Bard. Kíli liked his Flying instructor and felt a bit guilty for not paying more attention to his son, Bain Dale, a first-year Hufflepuff. He decided to introduce himself when he’d got the chance.

“That was nice, wasn’t it?” Fíli commented casually as they walked back to the Great Hall for lunch. “I always forget how nice Professor Bard is. No wonder he’s so popular amongst the students.”

“He is?” Kíli was not surprised. Professor Bard was your ideal cool uncle who also happens to be very good-looking.

“Absolutely. Most of the girls in the school fancy him. He’s a lot more approachable than the Elf and Dwarf professors, not to mention that he’s very attractive. He used to be a Quidditch star, you know? An absolutely wicked Chaser. Even played for England in the Quidditch World Cup. Then he got married and had three kids before he lost his wife tragically in the last Wizarding War. If you ever need a tragic war hero to fantasise about, Professor Bard would be the ideal choice.”

Kíli presumed Fíli’s reasoning had its merit, though he shuddered at the thought of himself fantasising about a bloke and giggling like a teenage witch. Shrugging, he quickened his steps to keep up with Fíli.

Their afternoon double Charms was with Professor Elrond Peredhel, the Head of Ravenclaw. Kíli could feel Fíli tense up a bit next to him and could not help but smile to himself. It was nice to know that his friend, who seemed so collected and downright perfect all the time, could still get flustered. Professor Elrond, however, was not an intimidating professor at all, despite his rather regal look. He smiled at them all before beckoning them in. When he spoke, his voice was calm and wise, explaining the intricate details of charm work. Kíli found himself picking up Charms very quickly, even faster than Fíli. He managed to make his feature quill fly on his first try, a feat that earned him 2 more points for Gryffindor. Thankfully, in spite of his wish to impress his Head of House, Fíli did not resent Kíli’s gift in the subject at all. If anything, he was extremely proud when Professor Elrond awarded Kíli 2 points for answering a question correctly.

The class everyone had been looking for was Flying. Once the Charms classes were over, everyone rushed out of the classroom at top speed to get to the Flying training ground. Professor Bard was already waiting for them, along with 20 some shabby broomsticks lined up on the grass. He smiled at Fíli and Kíli and Kíli swore that he could hear the sighs from several girls. Gimli snickered while Legolas looked affronted that the dreamy sighs were not directed towards him.

“Okay class, gather around,” said Professor Bard in a loud clear voice. “Please, everyone stand by a broomstick.”

They all hastened to follow. There was some shuffling on who could get the newer looking brooms but Fíli wisely took Kíli aside to avoid the tangle. “It wouldn’t matter anyway,” he whispered to Kíli, “for today’s class we’re just going to learn to summon the broom to your hand and maybe hover over the ground.”

“Order please,” bellowed Professor Bard and the crowd finally settled down. “Now, stick your hand over your broom and say ‘Up’”.

“Up!” everyone shouted.

Kíli’s broom rolled around in the ground a couple of times before reluctantly jumping into his hand. Next to him, Fíli’s broom obeyed his instruction instantly. Clearly, the rumours about Fíli’s flying skills were true. Only a few of them managed that. Legolas’s broom did the same and the Elf looked around lazily with a satisfied smirk. The only other student who managed to achieve that was a first-year Hufflepuff, who, by the look of it, must be Professor Bard’s son, Bain Dale.

“Now try again, but with feelings,” said Professor Bard loudly as he walked around the students, trying to help. “Say the words with confidence and determination. Connect with your broom and call for it.”

Finally, one by one, they had all summoned their brooms. Professor Bard showed them the proper way to mount the broom and grip it without sliding off. Fíli, Legolas, and Bain were the best amongst them, performing all of those tasks with practised ease. Kíli had managed to mount his broom even though he did not find it very comfortable. He was sure that his private parts would be protesting to him after class, which was frustrating as Legolas sat on his broom with such elegance that it was painfully clear to Kíli that he was doing something wrong. He made a mental note to ask Fíli about it after class.

The class could have gone on uneventfully. Once everyone was on their broomsticks, Professor Bard started to explain how to maintain altitude above the ground while staying level in the air, except that his lecture was quickly interrupted by the loud roaring of a…

“Professor Dáin’s manticore!” Ori’s shrieks directed everyone towards the direction of the Forbidden Forest and sure enough, a lion with a human’s head and a scorpion’s tail came charging out of the forest, roaring its displeasure. Behind him, Dáin’s long red beard could be seen as the Dwarf ran after the beast, shooting spell after spell at it, all of which bounced off the beast’s skin. What happened next was utter chaos.

As the manticore charged towards the class, everyone panicked. Students’ shrieking could be heard from every direction, drowning out Professor Bard’s instructions. Everyone was trying to get higher into the air to escape the manticore, with various levels of success. Ori’s broom shot so high into the air that the poor redhead slipped off the end and only managed to hang on to his broom by grabbing on to the end of the stick. Gimli’s broom started shooting sideways, shaking the Dwarf so violently that his hair flew in all directions. Dáin’s son, Thorin Stonehelm-Ironfoot, fell off the broom when the broom decided to escape the scene faster than Thorin could catch on. He resigned himself to fighting off the beast with his father, something that he had probably got quite used to, being Dáin’s son. A Ravenclaw girl somehow managed to propel herself into the air without a broom, prompting Professor Bard to fly up to catch the screaming girl.

Fíli, Legolas, and Bain had all risen up to the sky with no difficulty whatsoever. Legolas looked horrified at Dáin’s antics as he muttered. “Absolute nutter! What in Ilúvatar’s name is that mental Dwarf thinking?” For once in his life, Kíli agreed with Legolas. Bain surveyed the area and quickly flew off to help his father. Fíli’s attention, on the other hand, was focused solely on Kíli, for the brunet was struggling.

“Kíli, come on,” Fíli’s voice sounded desperate as Kíli’s broomstick bumped up and down while remaining resolutely in harm’s way, “bring your broomstick up. Tilt the handle of the broomstick up and spur it forward.”

Try as he might, Kíli’s panicked mind was getting in his way. His broomstick was not responding and the manticore was getting closer. Soon, Kíli found himself almost face to face with the beast, its hot breath blowing on Kíli’s face. _No_ , thought Kíli in a great panic, _this is not how I want to die._ The beast, however, clearly had other thoughts, as he bared his sharp teeth menacingly at Kíli. 

Vaguely, Kíli realised that all the other students had got away. There were lots of shouting and screaming but none of it made any sense to him. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Professor Bard carrying the screaming Ravenclaw girl and flying towards him but he was too far away. He was going to die at the mouth of this horrendous beast, on his second day of school!

Except for a mop of golden hair suddenly appeared in front of him, blocking the manticore from view. Kíli gasped as Fíli levelled his broomstick in front of him and extended his hand, urging Kíli to grab it. Before he could do anything though, he saw Fíli’s broom go backwards and the blond’s face paled as he cried out in shock. Clearly not pleased with the obstruction in front of him, the manticore bit the end of Fíli’s broomstick and started dragging Fíli towards him. The panicked look on Fíli’s beautiful blue eyes was so apparent that it pained Kíli as if someone had grabbed his heart and squeezed it.

“No!!!” cried Kíli and he felt a powerful surge of magic rushing through his body. His broomstick sped forward obediently and he launched himself at Fíli, grabbed the blond around the waist and holstered him up to his broom with a strength he did not realise he possessed. Dragging his friend onto his broom, Kíli urged his broom upward and it shot into the air at top speed, taking them both out of danger.

“Are you alright?” Kíli could hear Fíli’s concerned voice but he could not respond. He was exhausted and his vision was blurring. Before he would worry about his lessening control over his broom, however, Fíli took over and they descended from mid-air into a clearing safe from the manticore. Holding Kíli in his arms, Fíli half carried, half dragged Kíli off the broomstick.

“I’m fine,” gasped Kíli. “Are you hurt? Did the manticore get you?”

“Shhh,” said Fíli in a soft voice, his hand rubbing calm circles on Kíli’s back. “It’s alright. I’m fine. You saved me.”

“You came for me,” said Kíli in an almost awed voice. “You were out of danger but you came back for me.”

Fíli’s blue eyes locked with his and Kíli felt almost overwhelmed. “Of course, I did. You’re my best friend. I’ll do it all over again, as long as you need me to.”

Dinner was an absolute nightmare. All the staff had heard about the manticore incident and had rounded on Dáin the moment he turned up at the Great Hall. It was hard to hear the exact conversation, as everyone was yelling and Dwalin was waving his wand like an axe.

“Why do they keep Professor Dáin?” asked Kíli curiously.

“Because he was the best at his job,” sighed Aragorn, “even though he might be a tad too enthusiastic. Mister Radagast is great with pure light animals but his dealings with dangerous magical creatures are quite limited. Besides, most of the wizards who can handle magical creatures are even crazier than Professor Dáin, if you can believe that. I suppose it’s a job requirement. I mean Professor Kettleburn only retired because he had lost all but one of his limbs.”

Shuddering slightly, Kíli made a mental note to stay clear of magical creatures and Dáin. After dinner, he and Fíli made their way to the Study Hall, only to be stopped by Professor Thorin Oakenshield.

“Uncle,” cried Fíli in delight. “How are you?”

Thorin nodded regally at Fíli before casting Kíli a distrustful look. Knowing his presence was not welcome, Kíli quickly excused himself. He figured that Thorin would want to make sure that his nephew was intact after that afternoon’s incident and he had no wish to intrude upon such a private moment. Not to mention that he felt much better off without Thorin’s glare.

Kíli woke up the next morning with a sense of foreboding. He wondered for a minute where it came from until he realised that the first class of the day would be double Potions. Sighing, he got dressed reluctantly and went to breakfast.

Potions classroom was in the dungeon, something Kíli greatly disliked. He preferred the open ground or the high towers where he could overlook the entire school. The dungeon, however, felt dark and closed. He noticed that none of the Dwarves seemed to mind that, however.

“We’re miners,” Gimli explained while they were waiting outside the dungeon. “We’re used to working in the heart of the mountain to find treasures and objects of magical powers. Most of the residents in Erebor actually live underground.”

“There’s nothing wrong with preferring the open ground though,” whispered Fíli in Kíli’s ears, as if reading his thoughts. “I never like the underground rooms of Erebor that much myself.”

At that moment, the door to the dungeon flew open and the students filed in. Professor Thorin Oakenshield was standing behind the desk, wearing a rich elaborate robe of dark blue decorated with jewels. In fact, he looked more like a King standing in front of his throne than a mere professor. His expression was solemn while his eyes scanned the room like a hawk sizing up his prey, which made the noise in the dungeon die down instantaneously.

“Welcome to your first Potions class,” Thorin’s voice was a deep and rich baritone, easily captivating the attention of all. “You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic,” his eyes narrowed and it fixed on Kíli. The poor brunet was simply puzzled; was that meant for him? But surely he would not be stupid enough to consider Potions non-magical. “I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death -- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.*”

More silence followed this little speech. Kíli looked at Fíli helplessly and the blond gave his hand a reassuring squeeze under the table. Relaxing a bit, Kíli jumped when Professor Thorin called his name.

“Kíli Durin! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?*”

Kíli blinked. He had no idea what the answer was. Sure, those names sounded vaguely familiar from his summertime reading but there was no way he could have remembered all the details of the textbook. His eyes wide, Kíli replied in a small voice, “I’m sorry but I don’t know, sir.”

Professor Thorin glared at him, as if highly disappointed. “Let’s try again, shall we? Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”

“I…” stuttered Kíli. He raked his brain hard. “Bezoar is something related to poison, isn’t it?”

“Is that the best you can come up with?” Thorin snarled, “something related to poison?”

Hanging his head in shame, Kíli willed himself not to blush and tear up in embarrassment. Next to him, Fíli was fidgeting but he dared not to look up. He didn’t want to see anyone’s judging looks or sneers.

“One last time before we give you up as a lost cause.” Professor Thorin’s voice was cold. “What is the difference, Durin, between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

Kíli shook his head in distress, unable to even utter a reply. He had never felt so defeated in his life. Professor Thorin clearly hated him and he was a complete idiot in front of everyone.

“Well?” prompted Professor Thorin, not willing to give Kíli a break.

“Please, professor,” Fíli’s hand shot in the air and he held his uncle’s gaze defiantly, “maybe I can have a go at the questions?”

Raising an eyebrow, Professor Thorin nodded. “Go ahead then, Fíli Arken.”

“Asphodel and wormwood make the Potion of Dreamless Sleep. A bezoar is used as a poison antidote and can be found in the guts of a cow. Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same things, called akamite.”

Before Kíli could feel even worse about his stupidity, however, Professor Thorin marched towards them, his robe billowing behind him. He stopped right in front of Fíli, his eyes blazed with fury. “Is that the best you can give?”

Fíli did not back down from his uncle’s glare. Instead, he looked Thorin straight in the eyes and answered calmly, “None of them is even in the first half of the textbook. I’m sure my guess is as good as anyone else’s.”

“Two points from Ravenclaw!” bellowed Thorin. “Now, for your information, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion but it is so powerful that it is known as the Draught of Living Death, not Potion of Dreamless Sleep. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat, not a cow. Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plants but it goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?”

Astonished, Kíli turned to look at Fíli, who gave him a little wink. His friend was trying to save him by answering those questions wrong on purpose! Filled again with gratitude, he gave Fíli a dazzling smile before scribbling down the notes.

Once the basic theories of ingredients handling, temperature control, stirring techniques, and magic control were covered, Thorin assigned them into pairs to mix up a simple potion to cure boils. Kíli was extremely grateful to be paired up with Fíli. Following the instructions on the blackboard, Kíli crushed the snake fangs while Fíli prepared their horned slugs. Kíli was grateful for this assignment: all he could do in front of the horned slug was not to gag. Fíli, thankfully, had no such problems, as he prepared them with efficiency and speed.

When it was time to add the porcupine quills, Kíli almost forgot the step to take the cauldron off the fire. Fortunately, Fíli was there to stop this grave mistake. Gimli, on the other hand, was not so lucky. Clouds of acid green smoke erupted out of Ori’s cauldron and a loud hissing noise indicated the demise of the said cauldron. Jumping onto his seat, Kíli narrowly avoided the spilt potion on the floor. Neither Gimli nor Ori were quick enough to stay out of harm’s way, as their failed potion splashed onto their arms and legs, which were soon covered with red boils.

“Class dismissed!” yelled Thorin over the din of the classroom. “For those of you who managed to brew a potion, put them at my desk with your names on the flasks. I’ll take those two to the Hospital Wing.”

Still feeling subdued, Kíli followed Fíli out of the classroom, not saying much. His silence continued until they reached the Great Hall for lunch.

“I heard that some of your first years have managed to melt a cauldron and caused mayhem in old Thorin’s class,” the Peredhel twins came out of nowhere, beaming mischievously at Kíli and Fíli. “I must congratulate you on a job well done. Not many first years have the guts to stand up to old Thorin.”

“It was an accident,” said Kíli quickly. “We didn’t mean…”

“It’s alright,” one of the twins patted Kíli in a brotherly manner, though the glinting in his eyes was anything but. “Anything to disrupt the dungeons and cause old Thorin trouble is fine with us. Wish that will persuade him to be nicer to the students.”

“Professor Thorin is just strict with high standards,” replied Fíli coldly. “He simply wishes all his students to realise their fullest potentials.”

“It ain’t working though when he scares most of them to death so often that their brains automatically melt in front of him,” smirked the other twin. “But you’re his nephew and heir, aren’t you? Is he like this at home?”

“Uncle may be strict with me but he pushes me to succeed and I’m grateful for his tutelage.”

“If you say so,” shrugged the twin, not taking offence at Fíli’s tone at all. “I must say I can’t imagine a childhood like that but to each their own, mate. See ya.” They disappeared as abruptly as they appeared earlier.

“What I said is true though,” Fíli told Kíli seriously. “Don’t worry about uncle. He’s probably hard on you because he thinks you have potential. He tends to do that. Besides, your dad is a great wizard from an ancient Dwarf family. He probably expects quite a lot from you.”

“I think he hates me,” said Kíli in a small voice.

“Nah, he can’t have,” Fíli patted Kíli on the shoulder. “And if he does, I’ll talk to him. There’s absolutely no reason to treat someone like that. I’ll make him see reason.”

Luckily, their afternoon double period was Defence Against the Dark Arts. Dwalin greeted them in his usual enthusiasm. He pushed them hard, never content with their results but always encouraging. By the end of it, Kíli was exhausted yet extremely happy.

“Hang on a minute,” Dwalin waved at Kíli and Fíli as they were leaving the classroom. “I never got to chat with yeh properly. How about a nice cuppa in my office? Yeh can tell me all about your first week.”

Dwalin’s office was large but sparse in terms of decorations and furniture. It was, however, filled with strange magical instruments and books on defensive spells and even the Dark Arts. The walnut shelves almost reached the high ceiling and covered one entire wall.“Better not touch anything,” warned Dwalin with a smirk, “if yeh value yer buttocks. Now, how was yer first week? Already seen a bit of action, huh?”

Kíli and Fíli proceeded to tell Dwalin all about their first week, from their classes to the flying incident.

“Sounds like yeh are a decent flyer, Kíli,” mused Dwalin, drinking his black tea.

“I froze in my broom and could have died had it not been Fíli,” protested Kíli. Even though Dwalin’s encouragement was heartwarming, Kíli didn’t feel comfortable taking the credit.

“But yeh got the broom up in the air to save yeh both in the end, didn’t ya?” Dwalin smiled encouragingly. “Sometimes all it takes is just a breakthrough moment like this. Yer magic reacted perfectly under pressure. I figure yeh’d have no problem with flying from now on. Both yer parents were good flyers, yeh know?”

“Really?” Kíli perked up at once. 

“Yeah,” nodded Dwalin, “Frerin was pretty good, especially for a Dwarf. He was a Beater for Gryffindor in his fifth year. Your mum Melian, on the other hand, was an amazing flyer. She was a Seeker for Ravenclaw since her third year, which was the most difficult position on the team. She was simply brilliant. Her grace and natural gift at flying can take your breath away. One of the best Seekers Ravenclaw’s ever had.”

Kíli beamed as a feeling of warmth spread through him. He cherished every single moment of such conversations. It offered him a mirror into his parents’ lives, one thing he never had. The more he knew about his parents, the more he loved and missed them. Fíli squeezed his hands before turning to Dwalin. “Maybe we’ll both try out for the Quidditch team in our second year. That’ll surely make uncle jealous.”

Dwalin chortled with laughter. “Poor bastard can’t fly to save his life. Mind you, if he does get on a broom, he’ll get so disoriented that he’ll end up diving instead of flying up and break his neck. Good thing yer mum never let him anywhere near a broom.”

Chewing his bottom lip, Kíli wondered if he should bring up the topic of Thorin’s apparent dislike towards him. He had no wish to ruin the mood but it had been nagging him despite Fíli’s reassurance. Surely as Thorin’s best friend, Dwalin would know the reason behind it all.

“What’s the matter, laddie?” As if reading his mind, Dwalin leaned in and asked in a concerned voice.

“It’s probably nothing,” Kíli hesitated. “But I think Professor Thorin really hates me.”

Dwalin’s eyes shifted and he looked almost uncomfortable. Before he could say anything, however, Fíli jumped in eagerly. “Surely this is just a misunderstanding. Uncle can’t possibly hate you. I mean you’ve really done nothing to warrant such things.”

“That’s what I don’t understand,” cried Kíli in frustration. “I really can’t think of what I’ve done to deserve it, other than the fact that I look the way I am. I mean I get the feeling even at the Start-of-Term feast. His eyes turned cold and angry the moment they set on me…” He hesitated. He had absolutely no wish to besmirch Thorin’s character, for Fíli seemed to hold him extremely dear, almost like a father figure. “Do you think he hates me because my mum was a Muggleborn?”

“Of course not,” snorted Fíli, “Uncle will never think like this. He may have a grudge against Elves but he has nothing against Man or Muggleborns. He gets on fine with Professor Bard. They may not be bosom friends but they’re perfectly civil towards each other.”

“That’s very true, laddie,” Dwalin nodded, his face now normal and he gave Kíli a reassuring smile. “Thorin might be many things but he will not hold yer blood status against you. Despite his history with Thranduil, he still treats Professor Elrond and Galadriel with the utmost respect and civilly. He recognises Arwen’s talent as a fine potioneer and even tolerates Tauriel, who’s really a walking dung bomb near anything hot and fiery,” he chuckled. “So no. I don’t think he hates yeh because yeh are half Man.”

“Then why?” Kíli was exasperated now. How could a wizard who was, according to Fíli and Dwalin, perfectly reasonable, hold such a strong dislike towards him without even knowing him?

“I’m sure Fíli’s right,” Dwalin tried his best to soothe Kíli. “It must be some kind of misunderstanding. I will speak to Thorin about it though. His constipated face may not be the best way to bond with students.” Fíli chuckled and Dwalin looked heartened. He gave Kíli an encouraging smile, though Kíli still had the nagging feeling that Dwalin did not believe what he said and there was more to the story there. He guessed he had to wait and see. Maybe Dwalin could talk to Thorin and fix this. They were best mates, weren’t they?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * From Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Quidditch and Kíli's first (of many) trips to the Hospital Wing

With all the new magic to learn and an entire castle full of hidden surprises to explore, time went by surprisingly fast in Hogwarts. Before Kíli even realised it, almost two months had already passed.

All of the classes had been quite amazing. Kíli never realised he could love school so much. Defence Against the Dark Arts easily became his best subject, along with Charms. Both Dwalin and Lord Elrond were pleased with him, as he showed real aptitude in both subjects. His performance in most of the other classes was acceptable as well, yet it was nowhere near as good as Fíli, who was without any doubt the best student in almost every single subject. It was only thanks to Fíli being his partner that Kíli had not flunked Potions entirely, for Thorin was still cold towards him.

Potions had become almost everyone’s most feared subject. Professor Thorin rarely smiled at anyone and he was extremely strict. While Dwalin made up for his equally ruthlessly high standard with gruff encouragement and sometimes rough pats on the shoulders, Thorin never employed such techniques. He was taciturn and solemn, his sharp eyes trained on the students for any mistakes. Fíli, of course, was used to such behaviour from his uncle and insisted that Thorin did it out of love, for he did not want any of his students to fail at Potions or even hurt themselves in class. But when Thorin’s treatment towards Kíli was even colder and more critical, Kíli found it hard to convince himself that Thorin actually behaved like this out of concern for him.

Despite his gentle probing, Dwalin never disclosed much about Thorin to Kíli. He had employed the tactic of distraction, which unfortunately worked really well as Kíli was so curious about the magical world, to evade Kíli’s questions on his conversation with Thorin. Kíli gave up in the end. After all, Thorin did seem less hostile towards him so he assumed that Dwalin did speak to the Potions Master about it. Besides, he had Fíli as his Potions partner and the blond would never let him mess up too much to warrant Thorin’s ultimate wraths.

After a fantastic Halloween feast and celebration, where all the Hogwarts ghosts worked together to put up a spooky show for the entire school, the attention of the school turned to Quidditch. As the Quidditch season drew nearer, the excitement in the school was building quickly. Even the most reluctant flyers were putting more effort into their Flying lessons, which greatly pleased Professor Bard. Fíli, of course, was one of the best flyers of his class. Kíli was surprised to find out that ever since his breakthrough at their first Flying lesson, he turned out to be quite decent. He suspected that his slighter build helped and he seriously considered trying out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team next year.

The morning of the first Saturday of November, Kíli found himself sitting at the Gryffindor table with Fíli next to him, tucking into breakfast. They had taken to sitting at each other’s House’s tables so often that nobody batted an eyelash anymore. If there was one thing that made Kíli truly happy at Hogwarts, it was his friendship with Fíli. He had never felt so connected with someone before. Not only was Fíli deviously bright and hardworking, but he was also considerate, caring, loyal and fun too. They complemented each other so well that soon their class and housemates started referring to them as “Fíli and Kíli”, always one item.

Other than Fíli, Kíli had some other friends too. Gimli and Ori were both his and Fíli’s good mates and they often ate, went to classes, and studied together. Whenever Kíli and Fíli were separated due to their Houses, Gimli took on the role as Kíli’s guide in Hogwarts and the magical world. He was closer to Ori, however, which Kíli had observed from the side with amusement. The boorish laughing Gimli and the shy proper studious Ori certainly made an entertaining pair.

The only person that seemed to genuinely hate him was Legolas. Kíli still could not understand why, for he had never done anything to Legolas other than just existed in his presence. The idea that someone could despise him so just because of his blood was simply baffling. Worse still, Legolas had his cronies next to him all the time. Bolg and the other two Slytherins, all of three of them possibly Orcs, might not look like the brightest bunch. Their sizes, however, could be quite a determining factor especially since they knew little magic to really duel properly.

The appearance of the flaming red hair of Tauriel interrupted Kíli’s musing. Looking up curiously, Kíli wondered why Tauriel looked so distinctly tired.

“Quidditch training,” Tauriel sighed, “I’ve been up since 5 this morning.” At Kíli’s raised eyebrows, she rolled her eyes, “going over tactics. Wood is officially obsessed. He dragged us up to practice and he’s not even our Captain! I mean I know our match against Slytherin is coming up in a week but Merlin’s beard, some of us do need to sleep.”

Oliver Wood was Gryffindor’s Keeper. Despite the general enthusiasm towards Quidditch, Kíli had never met anyone so crazy about the sport. Quidditch was the only thing Oliver ever talked about as if the maniacal look in his eyes whenever it was brought up wasn’t bad enough.

They were soon joined by Aragorn and the Peredhel twins, all three of them part of the team. Their bleary eyes confirmed Tauriel’s story. 

“Are you lot feeling confident against Slytherins?” Fíli asked with interest. Even for a Ravenclaw or a Hufflepuff, the opening game of the Quidditch season was always highly anticipated, not to mention that the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin made the match highly exciting.

“I wish,” Aragorn sighed grumpily, pulling some sausages into his plates. “We haven’t found a good Seeker yet and I doubt we will this season. I guess we’re decent players but without a good Seeker, our chances at winning are not high.”

Seeker is the most important player in the Quidditch team. Their job is to catch the Golden Snitch, a small and extremely fast and shifty little ball that, once caught, would bring the team 150 points. Since scoring a goal only gets the team 10 points, catching the snitch practically means a match won. The problem was that the Slytherin Seeker and their captain, Feren Woodland, a 5th year Elf, was an exceptional player, according to Tauriel at least. Kíli, therefore, could hardly blame Wood when he turned up with his hairs sticking on end and his nose buried in his tactic papers. 

“Hey,” Tauriel suddenly turned to Kíli, “you’ve never been to a Quidditch practice before, have you? Why don’t you join us at practice today? You can watch from the stands. We could do with a little cheering.”

That was a brilliant idea. Despite enough theoretical knowledge about the basics of Quidditch (thanks to Fíli and Gimli), Kíli had never seen real Quidditch being played before. The only problem, however, was that he had no wish to sit by himself at the stands on this chilly November morning. Fíli, who read his mind, grinned, “I think this will be tons of fun. I’ll go with you if that’s alright with you?” He turned to Tauriel with a questioning look.

Frowning slightly, the redhead gave Fíli a long searching look before finally saying, “I suppose. You are not going to tell anyone from your House team about our training though, are you?”

“Of course not!” Fíli exclaimed indignantly, “I can never betray your trust like this. Besides, it will probably get Kíli in trouble too and I’m not going to do that.”

Beaming happily at his friend, Kíli turned to Tauriel with a pleading look. She only lasted 5 seconds before throwing her hands in the air. “Honestly, it’s not fair for you to use your baby eyes on anyone! Okay, fine. Fíli can come too. I’m sure we don’t have any secret tactics, not the ones we can understand anyway.”

The stands of the Quidditch Pitch were almost empty, which was to be expected since it was only a practice. It was not, however, completely deserted. As Fíli and Kíli climbed up, they saw two green robes at the top of the stands, looking down on the pitch. Frowning, Kíli wondered, “are those two Slytherins? What are they doing at our practice?”

“Probably spying on your team,” Fíli looked serious. “They are playing you after all. Let’s go see who they are and what they’re up to.”

The two Slytherins turned out to be Legolas and Bolg. The Elf was looking at the pitch intently but Bolg was looking around in a shifty manner. Kíli exchanged a look with Fíli: this was definitely suspicious.

“What brings you fine young gentlemen to a Quidditch practice that is not your team’s?” Fíli’s cool voice brought both Slytherin’s attention to them. Bolg sneered at them while Legolas looked irritated to be interrupted.

“The same could be said of you,” Legolas said coolly before turning his eyes back to the Gryffindor practice.

“Tauriel invited both Fíli and myself,” retorted Kíli angrily. “I don’t believe anyone has extended you the same invitation.”

“So what if they haven’t?” Legolas snapped impatiently, his eyes still fixed on the pitch as the Gryffindor players had risen up in the air. “There’s no rule against it, is there? So will you just shut up and leave me to watch Quidditch in peace.”

Kíli opened his mouth to argue more but Fíli stopped him. Unfortunately, what Legolas had said was true. Every Hogwarts student and staff member was welcome to watch Quidditch practice of any Houses if they wished. Neither the team nor any other fellow audience had the right to drive them away from a practice session. Yet common courtesy dictated that practices were only open to students of the same House or those with express permission from the team to attend. Any uninvited audience could be seen as spies and were thus highly unwelcome. Still, Kíli technically did not have the ground to ask Legolas and Bolg to leave. Fuming, he turned to Bolg.

“What the hell are you doing here then?”

The giant Slytherin gave them a nasty smirk, “Friendly, aren’t we? Like Greenleaf said, you ain’t got no right to get rid of me.” His smirk deepened at the angry look on Kíli’s face.

“You…” Kíli’s retort was interrupted by Legolas, who was fed up with their bickering. “Will you please shut up? We’re here to watch the practice. Deal with it! This is a free school where everyone can attend, isn’t it?”

Even though Legolas did not put any particular emphasis on the word “everyone”, Kíli jumped at it at once. “Whatever do you mean by that? Explain yourself.”

“Well,” Bolg answered lazily, “Hogwarts admits anyone regardless of their backgrounds, doesn’t it? So even filthy half-breeds dressed in rags,” his sneer deepened as his eyes fell on Kíli’s second-hand robe, “who grew up with Muggle trash could make their way into the school and act like they own the place.”

Too incensed to speak, Kíli drew out his wand and pointed them directly at Bolg. Fíli’s angry burst “How dare you! Kíli is a great wizard! Way better than you ever will be!” finally drew Legolas’s attention away from the Quidditch practice. “Remove your wand from my friend at once, you dirty little half-blood!”

“Friend?” Kíli laughed without humour. “Is that what you call your cronies? You only want them because you’ve only got them. They are the only ones stupid enough to stick around you like puppies. Is that how you reward them? Take them to a Quidditch practice?”

“I bet you love watching Quidditch,” Bolg’s face was now red with rage, “seeing as you have never even seen it before. How sad! Pathetic little half-breed who was surrounded by Muggles. Not that you can ever play Quidditch. Your Dwarf father was pathetic enough but your filthy bitch of a mother must have doomed you. Is that how you could stand those Muggles? Because they remind you so much of your dear mummy?”

Those words made Kíli see red. Shaking with pure rage, he felt his control slip. Powerful waves of magic radiated out of him, sending Bolg flying a good 20 feet (over Legolas whose quick reflex allowed him to duck just in time) before crashing into the seats. 

“Kíli!” The feeling of Fíli’s arm on him was the only that calmed Kíli down. His friend’s panicked face further sobered Kíli up. “Are you alright? This is really dangerous. Mahal’s beard, you’re shaking.”

So he was. Kíli felt all the energy drained from him after his magic outburst that all he could do was nodding feebly. Holding him up, Fíli gently set him down on the seat. “It’s alright, Kíli. Just breathe with me. Deep breaths. I’ve got you.”

Further from them, Bolg struggled to get up from his crash landing. The snarling expression on his face was murderous when he marched towards the pair of Dwarves. Before Kíli could do anything, Fíli stood up with his wand drawn, shielding Kíli from Bolg. “Get back at once, you disgusting piece of worm,” he spat out, his wand pointing directly at Bolg’s heart. “If you come any closer, I swear to Mahal that it will be the last thing you do!”

Stopping on his track, Bolg turned to Legolas, possibly for reinforcement. The blond Elf, however, appeared wary of Fíli’s wand. Perhaps Fíli’s reputation as the best student of the year and Thorin’s nephew did help in situations like this. The fact that the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team was not far off on their brooms must have contributed to the matters too. Unlike Bolg, Legolas was anything but stupid. Instead of advancing on them, Legolas nodded to Bolg, who joined the blond Slytherin reluctantly. Once they were settled in their seats, Legolas lost no time in whispering furiously to Bolg. It did not take a genius to guess what they were saying if the nasty looks thrown at both Fíli and Kíli were anything to go by.

Now that the interruption was settled, Kíli could finally focus his attention back to the practice, which was in full swing by this point. All the players were up and the Quaffle and Bludgers were flying around at top speed. Still exhausted from his previous magical outburst, Kíli almost collapsed on Fíli while the latter supported his weight with ease and explained the play to him in detail.

“The Chasers need to be reasonably strong in the arms for passing the Quaffle but more importantly, they need to be quick to dodge the bludgers and be very good team players, for all three of them have to work together. You may need to divert and distract the other players to help your teammate. You need to understand the tactics really well and pass the Quaffle constantly. Most of the Chasers are either Men or Elves, for they have long arms and are lighter on the broom. Look at all those passes between Aragorn and Tauriel.”

Indeed, the two Chasers kept passing the Quaffles to each other so fast that Kíli was amazed by their understanding and rapport on the pitch. Tauriel was a brilliant flyer, the best he had ever seen, though his experience was arguably limited. The way she moved was so in sync with the broom that Kíli thought for a moment that she was just riding the wind without a broomstick. He was mesmerised by her graceful movements. When he looked around, he saw a similar expression of amazement and awe on Legolas’s face. It was so strange to see Legolas enjoying something just like a normal wizard, just like himself. Without the scornful look on his face, Legolas was in fact very handsome. Fíli, however, rolled his eyes.

“Once you have finished drooling over the red-haired Chaser, you would have noticed that their passing was interrupted by the Bludgers sent their way by the evil twins. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that they are such good beaters. They’re like a pair of Bludgers themselves. But usually, Beaters are Dwarves. We’re the strongest and the hardiest race. While a knock from a Bludger might put Elves and Men out of action for at least a couple of days, I’ve seen Dwarves players carry on playing after a 10-minute off-pitch treatment. Not to mention that we can deliver the deadliest blows. The evil twins have earned respect amongst the Dwarves for their Beaters skills for sure.”

“Is that the position you’ll try out for next year?” Kíli asked curiously. Fíli shrugged, “I reckon that’s the position I’m expected to try out for. But I’m not fussed really. I know I can never be a Seeker. They need to be very stealthy and deadly fast and are almost always Hobbits and Elves, maybe sometimes some smaller Men. Nor can I be a Keeper. I’m not tall enough to cover all three goalposts. The Elves with their long arms are best for that. But I reckon I could make a decent Chaser. It’d be fun to score some goals.”

Kíli wondered which position he could play. Being taller but less broad than the Dwarves, he figured he could be a Chaser himself. He was not slow by any means and he was sure he could understand the tactics and work with Tauriel and Aragorn. 

The practice went on for another half an hour. Whenever they took a new formation, Fíli would take the time to explain it to him. It was definitely fascinating for someone like Kíli who had never watched Quidditch before. Even Legolas and Bolg had stopped eyeing them with contempt for they were engrossed in the practice. Kíli could not blame them though. He simply could not understand how this was not everyone’s favourite sport. It was fast-paced, exciting, tactical, and did not seem overly dangerous. The Bludgers hadn’t managed to hit anyone yet.

The last assumption, however, turned out to be woefully premature very quickly. Some time into the practice, one of the twins sent a bludger flying at Tauriel, who dodged it smoothly as usual. The only problem was that it kept flying towards the stands at high speed.

Fíli was the first to react as he jumped up to his seat while beckoning Kíli to join him. Unfortunately, the magic outburst from earlier left Kíli still physically exhausted that he could only move sluggishly. Fíli was about to get down to help Kíli before he relaxed, as the bludger was clearly heading towards Legolas a couple of seats away from them. So engrossed in the practice, it took Legolas a couple more seconds to realise what was going on. Those seconds proved crucial, for when he saw the Bludger heading towards him, it was too late to get out of the way. Looking around frantically, Legolas managed to save himself at the last second. Just as the bludger was about to hit him in the face, he waved his wand and the ball changed direction mid-air, heading straight towards Kíli with accelerated speed.

The only thing Kíli thought of before blackness engulfed him was that clearly, his half Dwarven blood was not enough to protect him from a bludger to the head…

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first thing Kíli noticed when he regained consciousness was that the bed was softer than his own, along with a very tender feeling of his head. Groaning, he tried to sit up but was stopped by a firm hand.

“Stay where you are, laddie,” a very old Dwarf with an ear trumpet bellowed at Kíli and the poor brunet winced. His head clearly was not ready for something as harmless as raised voices. “You took a good knock to the head and you’ve been out for two days. Although I must say, your head is awfully soft for a Dwarf. I’ve once seen Dáin knock several mountain trolls unconscious with just his head.”

Trying very hard not to picture this scene, Kíli opened his mouth and croaked, his throat dry like a piece of paper.

“Here, drink this.” the Dwarf doctor did not wait for Kíli to respond and practically dump the foul-tasting liquid down his throat. Kíli was momentarily distracted as he gagged and tried very hard not to be sick.

“Are you Mister Oín Azanulbizar, the Healer?” asked Kíli in a raspy.

“What?” Oín asked in a loud voice, fiddling his ear trumpet. “You need a heater? Surely it’s not that cold.”

Luckily, Fíli’s blond head poked into the Hospital Wing to Kíli’s rescue, for Kíli was not sure if he would still be sane and talking after a mostly one-sided conversation with the clearly hearing-impaired Healer.

“You’re awake!” Fíli exclaimed in delight and he rushed to Kíli’s bedside. “I’ve been so worried! How are you feeling now?”

“Thirsty, disgusted by the potions, with a strangely tender head,” Kíli replied quite truthfully and Fíli laughed. “At least you haven’t lost your sense of humour. Here,” he fished a bottle of pumpkin juice out of his school bag surreptitiously and handed it to Kíli quickly, “I’m not sure if you’re allowed to drink it, with all the potions you’re taking and such, but…”

Kíli grabbed the bottle and gulped it down at record speed. The pumpkin juice was heaven-sent and made him feel much more human. “Thanks a bunch, mate,” he wiped his mouth with his sleeve sloppily. “That saved my life. So, tell me what happened.”

“Well, you were knocked out by the Bludger sent your way by Legolas and I…” Fíli looked slightly sheepish, “I might have lost it a bit. The next thing I knew, Bolg was peeling me off Legolas while I was punching him into a pulp. Anyway, he took my wand and started punching me.”

Kíli gasped. He had no idea that Fíli would be so much trouble too. 

“Don’t worry,” Fíli grinned. “I fought back hard. Even Gimli would be proud. Luckily, Tauriel and Aragorn arrived and flew you to the Hospital Wing. Mister Oín treated you immediately. Quidditch-related incidents are quite common in Hogwarts after all. Tauriel was furious at Legolas and I think she wanted to hex him into next month but Aragorn stopped her. They told Lady Galadriel about the incident, who summoned uncle. He was mad at Legolas too and gave him a month worth of detention with Alfrid. He should have been expelled!” Fíli said indignantly. “But he insisted that he was just trying to deflect the Bludger and it was an accident. Anyway, the last time I saw him, he was cleaning the toilet without magic while Mister Lock the cat was humping his leg.” The satisfied look on Fíli’s face was probably reflected on Kíli’s as well, for he found it hard to feel sympathetic towards the Slytherin’s plight. He still could not believe that Legolas would do something like this to him. He could get him killed.

“What else have I missed while I was out?”

“Not much,” Fíli assured him. “You obviously missed today’s class but I took notes for you in all the classes. Don’t worry about the homework. I talked to Lady Galadriel and Professor Bilbo already. Both of them asked you to take the time to recover before rushing into anything. Gimli and Ori came by every day but you were unconscious the whole time. Your House team came to visit too. I’ve never seen the evil twins so down but I reckon they felt responsible for the whole mess.”

“But it’s not their fault!” Kíli said. He hated to make the twins miserable, for they were such happy and boisterous pranksters who really did not cause this. 

“I know,” Fíli said soothingly. “And I told them so. But still, you know how it feels. I bet they’d be happy to know that you’re alright now.”

Before they could speak any longer, Oín came to chase Fíli out of the Hospital Wing. “Visit time’s over, lad. This laddie needs rest so leave him be. He’ll be good as new tomorrow morning. Say hi to your uncle for me, will you? And tell him to try to make his potions less disgusting. I’m tired of cleaning up sick from my floor!” 

Despite his clear hearing problems, Oín turned out to be a very competent Medi-Wizard. Kíli was fully recovered the next morning and went to breakfast at the Great Hall. Fíli was the first to greet him with a big but gentle hug. Gimli and Ori soon joined them before Kíli was surrounded by his House’s Quidditch.

“Are you alright now, Kíli? You gave us such a fright!” Tauriel was the first to ask as she rushed to Kíli’s bedside and looked him up and down. The twin soon joined in, “We’re so sorry, mate! We didn’t mean to but we can get a tad too enthusiastic sometimes.” Both looked sheepish. “What can we do to make it up to you? We’ll do anything you want, anything.” 

“I’m fine now. No need to worry. Mister Oín fixed me up with no problem,” Kíli assured all of them. “It’s not any of your faults, honestly. You couldn’t have predicted that Bludger was being redirected, could you?” 

Tauriel looked relieved before her face turned into a scowl. “I can’t believe Legolas did that! It was such a cowardly act and absolutely disgraceful! I will have a real talk with him.”

The twins exchanged a dark look before saying, “don’t you worry, Tauriel. We’ll take care of that little scum if he ever dares to try it again.” To lighten the mood a bit, one of the twins grinned at Kíli. “So, I hope Mister Oín didn’t give you too much trouble with disgusting potions. Professor Thorin either has a dysfunctional taste bud or a very sadistic kink.”

Aragorn clapped his hand over his forehead in exasperation. “For Merlin’s sake, Elladan, they’re first years! Stop poisoning them with your mischief before they have a chance to grow up properly.”

The yelling from both twins was quite entertaining to watch until Aragorn had had enough of it. “I mean it. If you don’t behave, I will tell Arwen about it!” And that finally shut them up. Kíli gave Tauriel a questioning look but the redhead just smirked. Clearly, the fair Ravenclaw Prefect was a force to be reckoned with.

When Kíli finally sat down at the Gryffindor table with Fíli and everyone else, he found himself sitting directly across from Legolas at the Slytherin table. The more unnerving part was the look on Legolas’s face. If he was hostile towards Kíli before, he was downright malicious now. Now was when everything started to get really personal. Not wishing to back down from the challenge, Kíli glared right back. It seemed that the humiliating detention did nothing to teach Legolas a lesson as he displayed no sign of remorse whatsoever. His eyes wide, his face red with rage and his nostrils flaring, Legolas gripped his fork so hard that he actually bent it. Kíli could not help but shiver. He had a nagging feeling that this incident would not be the end of the story.

Over the next week or so, the entire school was waiting with bated breath for the first Quidditch match of the year. It was not unusual to see Gryffindors and Slytherins staring at each other in the corridors or in classes. If they were in the presence of teachers and Prefects, the glaring match usually did not progress any further. In the absence of those, well, Kíli had become exceptionally skilled in dodging hexes and jinxes. He and Gimli had also taken the habit of eating at the Ravenclaw table.

Given the current circumstances, Kíli did not think twice about some unwanted attention towards him and Fíli at the beginning. It was Fíli who noticed first.

“Is it my imagination,” he tried to mention it in casual passing during dinner one night, “or is Bolg staring at us again?”

Everyone in the vicinity turned around. Clearly, Fíli was not imagining things as Bolg smirked at them while his eyes were fixed on Kíli. The nasty glint in his eyes was hard to miss. Kíli scowled at him. He had not even forgiven the Slytherin for attacking Fíli in the Quidditch practice yet. Next to him, Legolas looked up. The look of absolute hatred made Kíli’s heart sink. Bolg, on the other hand, gave Kíli the two-fingered salute.

“What a nasty boy!” Arwen’s indignant voice interrupted Kíli’s glaring. “Legolas too! You’d think he’d show some remorse for what he had done.” She turned to Kíli. “Be careful. It seems like they’ve singled you out.”

“Maybe it’s just a Quidditch thing,” Ori tried to reassure him. “Things always get heated before a Quidditch match. Who knows, I may even hex you before Gryffindor plays Ravenclaw. But it all passes after the match.”

Kíli smiled at Ori. The little redhead meant well, even though Kíli doubted it would actually pass after their first match. Fíli didn’t seem assuaged either. “I don’t think it’s just Quidditch. And I don’t think it’s just Kíli they’ve singled out. I caught Bolg sending me really nasty looks several times. Had it not been for the presence of others, I’m sure he’d have hexed me.”

“How can he be angry with you?” Kíli was surprised and felt a bit guilty. He hoped that Fíli was not dragged into this because of him. “He was the one who punched you.”

“Oh, but I fought back,” Fíli said with grim satisfaction. “Mister Oín had to treat him too.”

Kíli sighed. “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have gotten you involved.”

“No offence, mate,” Gimli interrupted, “but this has got nothing to do with you when you were out cold like a brick. Legolas and Bolg are both mental, full stop.”

This did bring a smile, albeit briefly, to Kíli’s face. “I just don’t understand. I mean, I know Legolas hates my guts because I’m a half-blood. Bolg too. But why Fíli? He’s not a half-blood.”

“Is that why they’re picking on you?” asked Arwen indignantly. “I can’t believe Legolas believes all that nonsense from his father. As for Bolg, I heard that he’s more than half Orc himself. Or at least his father is. Not that being half-blood is bad or anything,” she quickly reassured Kíli. “It’s just disgusting to attack someone for something they have no control over, 10 times worse when he’s in the same category.”

Kíli beamed at her. He could see why Aragorn was so besotted with her. Despite her delicate looks and seemingly calming manner, Arwen had true spirit.

“Thanks, Arwen,” Fíli smiled at the beautiful Elf before he turned to answer Kíli’s question. “Bolg’s family and mine have some long-standing animosity. There are few in the world that Thorin hates more than Azog the Defiler.”

“That’s Bolg’s father, isn’t it?” Kíli searched his memory. “The Death Eater?”

“Yes,” Fíli said darkly, “the worst kind. His hands are tainted with the blood of the innocents. While Smaug the Terrible is the most cunning and powerful Death Eater, Azog is definitely the cruellest and most ruthless. He enjoys eliciting pain from others and oftentimes tortures and kills for nothing but his own amusement.” He nodded gravely as Kíli made a disgusted sound. The raven-haired Gryffindor found it hard to imagine such sick twisted behaviour. “He is also the one who killed my great-grandfather in battle.”

“No,” cried Kíli softly. “I’m so sorry.”

Fíli shook his head. “It happened when uncle was a young warrior. My grandfather went missing in that battle and we’ve never found him since. I’ve never met either of them. But uncle is the one who really took it hard and you can hardly blame him for his desire for revenge. And that desire is shared by Azog, for he lost everything when uncle and the others defeated Sauron and Smaug in the Final Battle.”

“How did Azog get away with all this?” Kíli asked incredulously. “Isn’t there someone to bring him to justice?”

“Azog is not only ruthless but also cunning.” A dark-haired Elf student from Ravenclaw joined their conversation. “Hi, I’m Lindir Rivendell, Ravenclaw third-year.” He smiled at them and they all nodded back. “My dad works at the Magical Law Enforcement Department of the Ministry of Magic. He told me that Azog pleaded not guilty and claimed that he was acting under the Imperius Curse.”

“So the rumour is true?” Gimli piped up in excitement. Upon Kíli’s confused look, he quickly explained, “Imperius Curse allows the caster to control every single move of the one being cursed. The cursed can, therefore, do a lot of things totally against their will. It’s a very powerful way to control people and is being used extensively during the last Wizarding War.”

That sounded like a terrible curse. Kíli shuddered as he imagined doing horrific things with no power to stop himself. It sounded worse than death. “Is it possible to fight this curse?”

“Only those with the strongest willpower and magic can,” Arwen answered, “most are helpless against it. We study it in our sixth year Defence Against Dark Arts. It’s a very advanced and powerful curse.”

“So Azog could really be acting against his will?”

Lindir shrugged. “Technically. He said that Smaug was the one who cast the spell and since Smaug has gone missing, nobody can verify that. They also gave him Veritaserum, the truth potion, and his answer did not change. Now Veritaserum is not completely foolproof but it comes close. That’s why everyone believed him.”

The table fell silent as everyone digested the information. Gimli was the one to break it. “I don’t know about you but I think Azog is creepy and evil enough to do all those things perfectly consciously and lie under Veritaserum. I don’t know about his son but I doubt he likes either of you very much if he’s friends with Legolas Your Highness.” He thumped Fíli and Kíli on the shoulder. “Tough luck. I’d watch out for both of them if I were you, mate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for making Legolas such a villain lol.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first Quidditch match.

It could just be his imagination because he was paying Bolg a bit more attention now, but Kíli noticed the Slytherin in the company of Mister Lock a lot more often than normal for, well, anyone except Alfrid the Caretaker. While Mister Lock looked rather intriguing, with his curly dark fur, a longer than usual face, and large yellow eyes, it was known to have a foul temper, especially around students. When Kíli raised his concern with Fíli, he found that he was not alone.

“I was going to ask you that,” Fíli nodded, though he did not seem to take it as seriously as Kíli did. “I noticed it too. I caught sight of them close together in a deserted classroom once,” He screwed up his face in distaste, “It’s a little worrisome if you ask me, if not downright disturbing.”

What could Bolg possibly gain by befriending the Caretaker’s weird cat? Nobody apart from Alfrid liked the cat. Kíli guessed that it looked adorable enough, with its dark curly fur and golden eyes. But the cat’s eyes were always constricted and he could appear at the scene of the slightest trouble faster than anyone else, usually followed closely by Alfrid, to give the unfortunate students lengthy detentions. It was therefore absolutely bizarre to find Mister Lock cosying up to Bolg.

“Maybe Bolg really loves cats,” offered Kíli with little conviction in his voice and Fíli snorted, “Bolg the furry feline lover. That’s pretty hard to imagine.”

“Relax,” said Gimli to both of them, “I think you’re reading too much into the situation. So what if Bolg likes that stupid cat? I mean, it’s just a cat, isn’t it? It’s not like Bolg can do anything with it.”

“Yeah but why Alfrid’s cat?” insisted Fíli. “If Bolg really likes cats, why doesn’t he bring one as his pet?”

“I dunno,” shrugged Gimli. “Maybe his dad doesn’t like his son having a soft spot for something?”

“And why does Mister Lock accept Bolg? I mean, he hardly gets close to any students except to report them.”

“What do you expect? It’s a creepy cat, he’s a creepy bloke. Probably a match made in heaven. Thank Mahal, Mister Lock is not trying to cuddle with one of us. I’d have nightmares. Besides, I’d worry about your Highness if I were you. Bolg’s just dumb muscle. Your Highness is the clever one there with an agenda. The worst combination if you ask me.”

The arrival of the much anticipated first Quidditch match of the season had successfully distracted Kíli’s attention away from Bolg and Mister Lock’s strange new friendship. Kíli found himself wide awake at 6 am on the Saturday morning of the match, too excited to go back to sleep.

“Wake up, Gim!” Kíli cried as he almost jumped on Gimli’s bed. “It’s the big match today. We’ve got to go downstairs to the common room, to see how the team is feeling.”

Gimli’s sleepy grunts and sluggish movements did little to dampen Kíli’s mood. By the time they got down to the Common Room, the team was already assembled there. Everyone wore their red and gold Quidditch robe and Aragorn, the Gryffindor Captain, was delivering his prep speech. Next to him, Oliver Wood looked ready to take Aragorn down and take his place instead. Kíli wondered if the upcoming match was the only thing stopping him from his one-man coup.

“Ready for the match?” Kíli asked Tauriel after Aragorn had finished. She looked absolutely stunning in the scarlet robe that accentuated her flaming red hair, which she had worn in a high plaited ponytail. Her emerald green eyes were even brighter than usual, shining with anticipation. 

“More than ready!” Tauriel beamed at him. “We’re going to kill Slytherin today! I know we will! We'll make those little gits regret their disgusting treatments of you!”

The Great Hall was unusually packed for an early Saturday morning. When the Gryffindor team entered, loud waves of cheers and boos exploded from different tables. Kíli noticed that both the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables were more crowded than usual, as students from other houses joined them to show their support. He spotted Fíli and Ori right away in the Gryffindor table, both grinning widely. Kíli noticed that Ori even went as far as wearing a Gryffindor scarf.

“Where did you get that?”

“Gimli gave it to me,” Ori smiled enthusiastically. “I need to show my support for Gryffindor somehow.”

Fíli, however, was still wearing his Ravenclaw scarf. In fact, he did not sport anything red and gold, or green and silver for that matter, unlike so many other Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs in the Great Hall. He chuckled at Kíli’s raised eyebrows.

“I just don’t want to annoy uncle too much. He is Head of Slytherin after all and he takes Quidditch, or any sort of competitions quite seriously. Me showing up in Gryffindor colour might be a tad too much for him to handle.”

“But you’re sitting with us, aren’t you?” Kíli asked earnestly. He could not imagine watching his first Quidditch match without his best friend.

“Of course,” Fíli quickly reassured him. “I’m supporting Gryffindor. Just don’t think it wise to shout about it in front of uncle.”

All of their eyes turned to the staff table. Sure enough, Professor Thorin had honoured the special occasion by wearing an emerald green robe with silver threads woven in, which unfortunately clashed horribly with Dwalin’s bright red robe next to him. While Dwalin guffawed at the terrible combination, Thorin looked mutinous and kept throwing dirty looks towards his friend and Lady Galadriel.

Despite the cold windy November weather, the Quidditch stands were filled with students and staff members. Kíli and Fíli shared a binocular to better see the actions on the pitch. Professor Bard was the referee of the match and he soon blew his whistle to start the match.

This was nothing like the practice Kíli had seen before. Granted he was exhausted and only conscious for a short while back then, but the intensity of the match was way beyond any practice sessions. The Quaffle exchanged hands so quickly that Kíli had a hard time keeping track of it. The Bludgers were being sent everywhere yet the players dodged them so quickly and gracefully that Kíli felt stupid to have fallen to their victim. The Gryffindor Chasers were just phenomenal. They changed their positions constantly and their passings were dead on. They had scored 50 points within the first 15 minutes of the game while the Slytherins could hardly hold the Quaffle. Kíli chanced a look at the staff stands and was not surprised to see the stormy expression on Professor Thorin’s face.

“Gryffindor in possession.” Lee Jordan, a fellow Gryffindor third year, was the commentator of the match. “Chaser Elessar passes to Chaser Silvan, who just dodged a Bludger --- nice no-look pass from Chaser Silvan back to Chaser Elessar. Careful, the Slytherin chasers are closing in. Nice pass to Chaser Silvan and… She scores again!”

Clapping so hard that his hands hurt, Kíli simply could not take his eyes off Tauriel. She was easily the best flyer out there. Kíli knew that he was monopolising the binocular to watch her, which made Fíli pout in annoyance. Yet he simply could not stop. It was mesmerising to watch her fly, dive, twist, and turn in the air with such ease and grace. What was more, she had got strength and power in her too if the way she threw the Quaffle from a good 50 metres away to score a spectacular goal was anything to go by. A sudden gasp from the crowd finally drew Kíli’s attention back to the match.

“What’s happened?”

“If you haven't’ been busy drooling over Tauriel,” snapped Fíli uncharacteristically, “you’d have noticed that the Golden Snitch had just appeared.”

The little golden ball had magically appeared around the far left Gryffindor goal post. Both the Gryffindor and Slytherin Seekers had spotted the whimsical little snitch, as both raced forward towards the goal post, narrowly missing Wood who flew out of the way just in time.

Even though Kíli was no great flyer, he knew the Gryffindor Seeker had little chance. Feren Woodland dominated the air with an unbelievable speed that the Gryffindor Seeker was soon trailing behind. Even the bludger sent by one of the evil twins did not stop Woodland. After a particularly good and daring dive, Feren Woodland had the snitch clutched safely in his hand.

“Slytherin caught the snitch.” Lee’s petulant voice could be heard over the gasps from the crowd. “150 points to Slytherin.” It soon turned more cheerful as he announced the surprising result. “The match is over and Gryffindor won 180 to 160.”

The look on Thorin’s face was spectacular. Kíli almost snickered to himself when he saw that the older Dwarf’s thick eyebrows were knitted together so angrily that they joined to form a formidable line. Next to him, Dwalin patted Thorin in a consoling manner. It was so very hard to lose a match this way. 

“Why did Woodland catch the Snitch,” asked Ori, looking utterly puzzled, “if he knew they were going to lose anyway?”

“Because he’s clever,” Fíli answered reluctantly. It was apparently hard for him to praise a Slytherin Elf. “He read the situation of the game well and knew that Slytherin stood no chance against the Gryffindor Chasers. If the match goes on, they’ll only lose more. So he’s cutting the loss so Slytherin only loses by a small number of points. That way, given that he’s such a good Seeker, Slytherin may still stand a chance at the Quidditch Cup if they win the other matches.”

Now that was very impressive. Kíli knew he would never think of that because he liked to focus on the here and now. But Fíli was thinking strategically. Kíli wondered if this was a result of growing up under the tutelage of Thorin as his heir with the expectation of being the future head of the ancient House of Oakenshield.

“Well, if Gryffindor plays like this, we’ve got nothing to worry about, eh?” said Gimli cheerfully and Kíli smiled. It would certainly be nice for Gryffindor to win the Quidditch Cup. Fíli shrugged. “Perhaps, the Gryffindor Seeker is still,” he paused, trying hard to find a polite word, “well, there’s still room for improvement so who knows. I’m just glad that Slytherin didn’t lose by too much. If you think uncle is strict now, he’s going to be unbearable next. He never likes losing.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Unfortunately, Fíli’s prediction turned out to be exactly true. Over the next several weeks, Thorin’s temper had grown to the point that he was reducing (or trying to) at least one student to tears in every class. In their case, that student was usually Kíli. 

Potions had turned into a bi-weekly nightmare for Kíli, who could not seem to do anything right in the class. His chopping techniques were abysmal, reducing fine ingredients to an unusable pulp, his timing awful, often over or under-cooking his potions, his magical control all over the place, especially when Thorin was near, occasionally blowing up his cauldron with his excess magic. Even Fíli’s help could not rescue Kíli’s mishaps. What was worse, after ruining their potions and dragging down Fíli’s marks two weeks in a row, Thorin forbade Kíli to work with Fíli, insisting that Kíli must work on his own.

“You’ve done enough damage as it is,” snarled Thorin, his blue eyes angry and cold. “Even your partner’s brilliance in Potions cannot prevent your clumsy and stupid mistakes. You’re to work on your own from now on so no one else will suffer from your stupidity or die from the disasters you will undoubtedly cause until you can prove that you’re responsible enough to work with a partner again if that ever happens.”

Trying his hardest to control his angry tears, Kíli nodded curtly and lowered his head, not wishing to see the looks on his classmates’ faces. The sniggers were harder to block and he thought he heard Legolas’s distinctly. He had never felt so humiliated before. He knew he was not the best student like Fíli but he was usually alright. True, he had gotten into troubles every now and then but he had always been able to survive the consequences without too much trouble. People tend to forgive him when they look at his apologetic eyes and bashful smile. Not Thorin, however, who seemed determined to find fault in Kíli. No one had disliked him so much and Kíli simply did not understand why.

The moment the bell rang, Kíli grabbed his bag and bolted out of the classroom as quickly as possible, ignoring the cries of Fíli from behind him. He just wanted to be alone, where nobody could see him. He was never going to cry in public but Kíli was not above some kicking and tears in the privacy of the boy’s water closet. He was so hasty and determined to run to his sanctuary that Kíli did not even notice Mister Dwalin and promptly ran into the older Dwalin.

“Wow!” Dwalin grabbed Kíli by the front of his robes just in time to prevent an even more undignified fall on his bottom. “What’s the matter? Yeh alright, lad?” he asked gruffly, sounding not displeased but rather concerned.

“Fine,” muttered Kíli. Mumbling a quick apology, he avoided Mister Dwalin’s eyes and ran off. Kíli knew Mister Dwalin meant well and his hasty departure probably left the older Dwarf puzzled and even more worried. But he simply could not take it at the moment. Once he was securely locked inside a water closet, Kíli let his guard down and felt large tears run down his cheek. 

After a good half hour, Kíli had finally managed to compose himself enough to get out of the water closet. He debated where he should go next. He had already missed the beginning of his Flying class. Was it worth showing up? He desperately wanted to go because flying was one of the things that helped him clear his mind. But Kíli did not want to be reprimanded by Professor Bard for being late. He could only take so much criticism in a day.

In the end, Kíli decided to skive off Flying to go to the Library. He figured he might as well start on his Potions essay and make up for Flying later. It was quite the agony, trying to wrestle his mind to work on the essay on a subject he detested. But Kíli ploughed on until it was dinner time and his stomach was rumbling.

The moment he turned up in the Great Hall, Kíli spotted Fíli, who got up from his seat and ran towards him. Grimacing slightly, Kíli prepared himself for a good lecturing from Fíli on first ditching him and then missing Flying. To his surprise, Fíli simply wrapped his arms around Kíli. “Are you alright? I’ve been so worried.”

“I’m fi… fine,” stuttered Kíli. “Sorry about earlier.”

Fíli waved his hand as if Kíli was being silly. “Oh, come on, you have nothing to be sorry for. If anything, I should be the one apologising for uncle’s absolutely atrocious behaviour. I simply can’t believe that he would be so harsh. That was really uncalled for.”

“Well,’ mumbled Kíli, his anger mostly gone, leaving him with only bitter disappointment. “I am really bad at Potions. He has every reason to be angry.”

“That may be true,” said Fíli, who tipped Kíli’s chin up to look straight into Kíli’s eyes. “But it does not give him the right to humiliate you like that. Nobody has the right to do that to anyone, let alone you. I mean, you’re still learning to control your magic so accidents are bound to happen. You didn’t mean it. You simply made a mistake. As long as you learn from it, I don’t see what the big deal is.”

Feeling slightly better, Kíli settled himself in the seat next to Fíli in the Ravenclaw table and tucked into some food. “I just don’t understand why Professor Thorin hates me so much.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Fíli assured him. “Uncle is very strict and has a nasty temper. He doesn’t usually let it on but it does get the better of him sometimes. You’re unfortunately at the receiving end of it.”

“Talking about good old Professor Thorin?” Lindir joined in their conversation with an understanding smile on his face. He patted Kíli on the back and said, “Join the club. I used to cry after his class every time.” He looked almost reminiscent. “Good old time huh? You’ll get used to his temper after a while. And trust me, once you do, nothing phases you anymore. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?”

“Is your uncle always this…” Kíli tried to find the right word, for he did not wish to appear disrespectful but Fíli laughed. “Cantankerous? Unfortunately yes. Well, since we’ve lost the Arkenstone anyway.” When he saw the perplexed expression on Kíli’s face, he hastened to explain. “So, when the Goblins and Dragons attacked Erebor, we also lost our most ancient and greatest treasure, the Arkenstone. My father’s family even took their name after it. Being the oldest and prominent family of Dwarves, the House of Oakenshield has been charged with the task of protecting the Arkenstone and we failed. Some said that the Dark Lord had some of his Death Eaters steal it. Such a formidable magical object in the hand of the Dark Lord could mean destruction for all. So uncle and my mother worked hard to try to find it but they have not succeeded yet. Mother has almost given up hope but not uncle. In fact, he regards it as a personal failure to not have found the Arkenstone. The longer it has gone missing, the more it weighs on uncle. I don’t think I’ve seen him truly happy since then.”

That would make sense. Although it was hard for Kíli to understand such heavy responsibilities of one’s heritage since he had grown up knowing nothing of his family. But he supposed that for someone like Thorin, this was a big deal, especially since it involved a powerful object in the hand of the Dark force. “Does anyone have any idea who might have it? Where was it last seen?”

“Nobody knows!” Lindir threw his hands up the air and shook his head theatrically. “The last rumoured owner, sorry,” he smiled at the indignant look on Fíli’s face, “thief, I mean, is Smaug Drake, the most fierce and terrible Death Eater of the Dark Lord. This was from the testimony of a convicted Death Eater though so it was entirely possible that he made it up as more bargaining chips to reduce his sentence. After all, I don’t think Smaug would have let anyone but the Dark Lord see it. In any case, Smaug had gone missing since the Final Battle. Most believed that he was killed.”

“How do we know that he didn’t just disappear, and, you know, do a runner?”

“Because the Aurors had found Smaug’s wand, a powerful Elm wand with a dragon heartstring core, in the battlefield. Smaug was not one to run for his life while leaving his wand behind. Besides, without his wand, where could he go? He’s a Pureblood Man, though some suspected he has Dragon blood.”

“Dragon blood?” cried Kíli, his eyes wide. How was that biologically possible?

“Yes, now don’t ask me how because not even I can stomach that thought,” Lindir grimaced. “But standing at 195 cm, Smaug is extremely tall for a Man. Regardless of his heritage, Smaug has never been to the Muggle society before. How could he live without his wand and stay quiet all these years?”

“Smaug is very proud,” added Fíli. “Unfortunately, uncle came to know him quite well from all those years of war. He’s the one who led the goblins to overtake Erebor and drive us out. In addition to Azog, he’s the one that uncle hates the most.”

Kíli pondered on the information. It seemed that despite the peaceful facade of the Wizarding world, there was something dangerous and sinister brewing underneath. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the weeks went on, it was getting closer to the Christmas break. The festive atmosphere within the castle drove any worries about the Arkenstone and the Wizarding world out of Kíli’s mind. The gamekeeper, Radagast Brown, who was usually seen inside the Forbidden Forest or his little cabin, busied himself with decorating the castle for the festive occasion. It seemed to Kíli that every day when he walked to the Great Hall, more holiday decorations had been put on. 

Despite the happiness floating around the castle, Kíli had one more thing to worry about: whether he should stay in Hogwarts for his holidays or not. Madam McGonagall had already sent Keeper to him, asking him if he would like to come back to the orphanage for the holidays. Kíli was not sure himself though, now that he had other options. He could stay at Hogwarts during the holidays, giving him more time to catch up on his homework, particularly Potions. He did miss his friends back in the orphanage but he knew that his return would only further burden the always strained financial situation of the orphanage. Gimli also asked him if he wanted to spend the holiday season with him but Kíli had declined. Even though he was good friends with Gimli, Kíli did not feel close enough with the Dwarf to intrude upon such a holiday that was meant for families. He had half wished that Fíli would invite him and was slightly disappointed that his best friend did not.

“We’re spending the holidays with uncle,” said Fíli, his face pink and certainly avoiding Kíli’s eyes. “I would have liked to invite you but…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kíli said quickly, understanding the situation immediately. He could not believe that he did not think of it before himself. Of course, Thorin would be spending Christmas and New Year with Fíli and his mum. They were his only families left, not to mention that Fíli was his heir. Now that he knew Fíli’s holiday’s arrangement, he had no desire to spend this festive time of the year under the scowling eyebrows of Thorin, ruining the holidays for all.

“I’ve talked to Mister Dwalin about it,” Fíli said in a reassuring tone. “He promised me that he’ll speak to uncle about it. With the holiday season approaching, uncle’s mood has improved. I’m sure he’ll get over himself quickly enough.”

That eventually helped Kíli make his decision. After confirming with Madam McGonagall again and again that his return would not inconvenience the orphanage, Kíli decided to go back and spend the holidays there. Since Hogwarts professors needed to return to the castle several days early to prepare for the new term, Fíli invited Kíli to visit him after Thorin’s departure, which Kíli gladly accepted. Now that he had that to look forward to, Potions seemed less unbearable.

Unfortunately, in addition to Thorin’s intense scrutiny and criticism, Kíli found himself with one more thing to worry about in Potions. Legolas, who had just completed his detention for his attack on Kíli, was now trying his best to sabotage Kíli in every possible way, with the help of Bolg of course. He had apparently learnt from his detention, for Legolas’s bullying was much more subtle now. Kíli soon learnt to protect his bench like a hawk whenever Legolas or Bolg walked past, after having at least 2 potions smashed to the ground by Legolas and another couple ruined because Bolg bumped into him from behind, prompting him to drop the wrong ingredients to the cauldron.

“You should report them.” Fíli hissed indignantly after Legolas’s fifth attempt at ruining Kíli’s potions. “This is completely unacceptable. They’ll soon cause an explosion and you’ll be hurt.”

“It’s not like that hasn't happened before without their help,” Kíli hissed back, looking nervously at the teacher’s desk to make sure Thorin’s hawk eyes were not focused on him, “Professor Thorin will just think I’ve messed up again. He’s finally not picking on me and I don’t want to upset that.”

“But…” 

“He’s not going to believe me,” said Kíli resolutely. “He hates me already and they are Slytherins. Of course, he’s going to take their side.”

Before Fíli could protest any further, help came from another source. Probably tired of Legolas’s pointless meandering around, Gimli finally spoke up angrily. “For Mahal’s sake, Greenleaf, would you please stick to your bench and stop moving around like a headless chicken? You’re making me dizzy and it’s interfering with my brewing.”

This finally got Thorin’s attention. Looking up from his desk, he scowled at Legolas. “Sit down, Greenleaf, and work on your potions. This is the Potions dungeon, not the stupid Quidditch Pitch where you can roam wherever you want. If I find you puttering around in the dungeon, I’ll take points from my own House.”

Exchanging a gleeful look with Fíli, Kíli smirked when Legolas finally sat down, his nostrils flaring and his lips pursed. He sent Gimli a nasty look but Gimli merely gave him a saccharine smile in return. Legolas’s pale face darkened and he soon took up muttering furiously with Bolg. Kíli sighed. Some things just never change.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So,” announced Lindir when Kíli joined Fíli for dinner at the Ravenclaw table that evening, “I heard that Professor Thorin told Legolas off in his own class today. Is it true?”

“You’re such a horrible gossip!” Arwen said with a fond smile on her beautiful face. Lindir sniggered. “Come on, Arwen. It’s not every day that you see Professor Thorin threaten to take points from his own House.”

After Fíli and Kíli recounted the story, both Lindir and Arwen looked angry in Lindir’s case and sad in Arwen’s case. It was Arwen who broke the silence. “I am so sorry, Kíli. I cannot believe that Legolas would stoop to such a level.”

“What do you expect from a spoilt kid fathered by Thranduil?” Lindir was certainly more direct. “Poor bastard’s doomed since he was born.”

“Be fair, Lindir,” Arwen said reproachfully. “I know Mister Thranduil is not the best when it comes to temper, but I can hardly imagine that he would imbue such hatred to his own son.”

“You’re just too nice and sees the best in everyone,” Lindir said firmly. “I know what Thranduil Greenleaf is like. He’s our family friend and dad used to take us to visit his mansion. He’s a narcissistic peacock who thinks he’s the King of the World and everyone else is not even fit to wipe his boots. And I can say this safely because unlike poor Fíli, I’m an Elf so I won’t risk sounding like an angry prejudiced Dwarf.”

Kíli snorted with laughter. It did sound like a pretty accurate description of Legolas’s father. He found himself to like Lindir more and more. Arwen, on the other hand, looked scandalised. “Lindir! How can you say such a thing? It’s so very unkind.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true though,” muttered Lindir. He looked more serious now. “I will have to say though, the Greenleafs are never followers of the Dark Lord. Thranduil probably finds it hard to bow to anyone, even the Dark Lord. He certainly shares some similar opinions with the Dark Lord, such as being a Pureblood Elf makes you superior to anybody else. But Thranduil has never sought world domination. He simply wants to grow his own business and protect the bloodline of his own family. As long as they are safe and pure, the rest of the world can burn.”

“So I take it that he stayed neutral during the last Wizarding War?” asked Kíli, knowing the answer already as he now remembered Fíli’s row with Legolas on their train ride to Hogwarts. It was, however, interesting to get it from an Elf’s perspective.

“Yeah, both sides tried to recruit him because he’s such a powerful wizard. And very rich too. But he refused both. The fact that he and his family lived without suffering the repercussions of his rejection of the Dark Lord was the proof of his magical prowess.” To that, Fíli actually snorted, disdain obvious on his face.

“Mister Greenleaf loathes Orcs and Goblins,” added Arwen evenly. “He’s an acquaintance of our family as well. Despite our differences in opinions regarding certain matters, father still manages to maintain a friendly relationship with him because he knows that Mister Greenleaf will never side with the Dark side. He even killed those Death Eaters who dared to bother his family during the last War. I think that underneath his somewhat aloof and proud exterior, he knows what is right and what is wrong.”

Lindir did not say anything but the look on his face said it all. Clearly, he thought Arwen was too kind and perhaps naive to think the best of everyone. Kíli would have to agree with him if Legolas’s behaviours towards him were anything to go by. This made him feel strangely sympathetic towards Legolas. As Lindir said, the Slytherin Elf almost had no stock. He was born to a father as prejudiced as Thranduil. Did he really stand a chance to become a decent person? Kíli did not like this train of thought. It was much easier to just hate on Legolas the bigoted bully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for Thorin's temper lol. I promise that he won't always be like this.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas and Kíli gets to go back to the orphanage before visiting Erebor.

Soon, or too soon for Kíli’s liking, it was Christmas holiday and everyone was getting ready to leave for home. It was not that Kíli did not like the orphanage. He did look forward to seeing his friends again. But he felt that he would miss Hogwarts and Fíli even more.

“I promise that I’ll write,” said Fíli as he looked Kíli straight in the eyes, which convinced Kíli that his friend was going to keep his words. “I’ll write so many letters to you that Keeper will hate me by the end of the holiday.”

Kíli laughed. This did make him feel better. Gimli and Ori promptly promised the same. It seemed like his holiday would be magical after all.

On their way back, they spent the last precious moments together playing exploding snaps, a card game where the cards might explode at any time, wizard’s chess, where chess pieces could talk and walk, and eating tons of sweets. Kíli was pretty bad at those games, given that he had never played much before. But Fíli was exceptionally good at wizard’s chess. When he played with Ori, who was reasonably good but no match for Fíli, the Queen kept swooning at Fíli’s clever moves, earning the laughter of the rest and a pink tinge on Fíli’s face.

By the time the train had arrived at King’s Cross Station, it was already dark. Mister Dwalin and the other teachers shepherded the students out of the train to the waiting arms of their families.

“Mum!” Fíli cried and ran to his mother, flinging his arms around her. Dís laughed and kissed Fíli’s head while hugging her son tightly. Next to him, Gimli was reunited with his mother and Ori was cocooned by his older brothers. Standing by himself, surrounded by reuniting families and holiday festivities, Kíli felt his heart sink slowly. The happiness that had filled his heart had evaporated. He had never felt so alone in his life before.

“Yeh alright, lad?” Dwalin’s concerned voice jolted Kíli out of his self-pity. Putting on a smile, Kíli replied with fake cheeriness, “yeah, great. Can't wait for the holidays!”

“It's fine, lad.” The look on Dwalin’s face was full of understanding. “Yeh don't need to pretend for my sake. I know this must be a tough time for yeh.”

Kíli sighed. He did not want to spoil Dwalin’s holidays. Besides, there was little Dwalin could do for him anyway. 

“Cheer up, lad,” smiled Dwalin as he patted Kíli clumsily on the back. “I'll write to yeh. Before yeh know it, yeh'll be back at Hogwarts.”

Feeling extremely grateful, Kíli plucked up the courage and hugged Dwalin. He could hear the elder Dwarf’s chuckle before he returned the gesture. Kíli wondered if this was what a father’s embrace felt like, warm and safe.

“Kíli!” Fíli’s excited voice drew Kili's head to his direction. Waving wildly at Kíli to come over, Fíli looked beside himself with happiness. Next to him, Dís was beaming at Kíli too. Hugging Dwalin goodbye, Kíli made his way to Fíli.

Before Kíli could properly introduce himself, for, of course, someone as important as Dís would not remember someone like him, he was engulfed in Dís’s arms. “My dear boy, how are you? It’s so good to see you again. Fíli has told me so much about you!”

“I'm, I'm fine, ma’am,” stammered Kíli, taken aback by Dís’s warm and open smile. He knew from his brief interaction with Dís on his first day to Hogwarts that Fíli’s mother was kind and loving. But his long-term fraught relationship with Thorin and Dís’s station as a lady from a prominent Pureblood family had altered Kíli’s memories somewhat. He half expected Dís to be kind but still somewhat cautious and reserved in front of strangers. Fíli’s mother in front of him, however, could not be more different from her brother. “Oh please. dear,” laughed Dís with a twinkling light in her blue eyes, so similar to Fíli’s that Kíli almost drowned in them, “none of this ma’am nonsense. Just Dís.”

“But…”

“You’re Fíli’s best friend.” Dís beamed and she patted Kíli’s cheek affectionately. “You’re the only one he talks about in his letters. It’s always Kíli this, Kíli that. Reading all these letters, I feel like you’re part of the family already. So please forget about the formalities. I’m just Dís.”

Though touched by Dís’s kindness, Kíli still felt uncomfortable addressing Fíli’s mother by her given name. Respect towards the elders was so ingrained that he had to pay Dís some tribute. In the end, he settled on Mrs Arken. “Thank you so much, Mrs Arken. I’m really flattered to be considered part of your family.”

Dís eyes shone with emotion at Mrs Arken but made no objection to this title. Instead, she hugged Kíli tighter. “Thank you, my sweet boy. Fíli told me that he’d invite you over to Erebor for the last couple of days of the holiday. I’m more than delighted to have you in my family home and am looking forward to knowing you better.”

After all the farewells and holiday wishes had been properly exchanged between friends, Kíli finally crossed the barrier and entered King’s Cross Station, only to find himself face-to-face with Madam McGonagall, who beamed at him and strode forward for a hug.

“It’s so nice to see you again,” smiled Madam McGonagall. “Come on, let’s go back to the orphanage. Everyone’s been dying to see you and hear about your stories.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first couple of days of the holidays for Kíli were spent satisfying the curiosities of his friends from the orphanage. The revelation that Kíli was a wizard and had gone to magical school had finally been made, which turned Kíli into an instant celebrity and hero. In fact, Kíli found himself unable to do anything by himself. There was always someone tagging along, asking all sorts of questions about the Wizarding World. Kíli did not mind it really. It was good to reconnect with the Muggle World where everyone seemed to have a perfectly ordinary life.

“We learnt more advanced maths in secondary school now,” Dean said with hardly-concealed excitement in his voice when they were out playing with snow and burning off the maybe not lavish but certainly abundant holiday food. “I think I may be able to qualify for Algebra class next year.” Next to him, Seamus snorted. “Yeah, go be the boffin, Dean. I’m going to try out for the football team next year. I think I’ll make a decent striker.” 

“Oi!” Dean threw a well-aimed snowball at Seamus, who only ducked at the last minute. “Says the one who only scored one goal in our last 9 matches.”

Normally, this kind of conversation would have intrigued Kíli, for he used to be like Seamus and Dean, concentrating on either sports like football or academics, well, mostly sports. Now that he had been to Hogwarts, however, he could not help but find all these Muggle subjects and pastimes slightly dull. How could any Muggle sport compare to Quidditch where you could fly? “Football is fine but I think I’ll try out for Quidditch next year. Do you know that you can play the sport on a broomstick?” And Kíli went on talking about the fascinating stories about the Quidditch matches he had been to or heard of.

“So you do all those things on a broomstick?” Seamus paused in his snowman construction and frowned. Even Dean looked sceptical. “Isn’t that kind of uncomfortable?”

“Not at all,” Kíli cried. “You can use cushioning charms to make the brooms really comfy. Fíli taught me the spell and it’s not that hard. It’s an amazing feeling, being up in the air. You feel like you’re on top of the world, so free and so powerful.”

“Yeah, I bet,” muttered Dean, though he did not sound very convinced. “What do they teach you at Hogwarts?”

“Oh, loads of really fascinating magic.” Kíli could hardly conceal the pride in his voice. “We’ve learnt to transfigure things into other things. Can you imagine turning a match into a needle? And we can make things fly! I mean, what’s the point of physics and maths when you can do things with a simple spell?”

“I like physics and maths!” Dean stood up and dropped his snowball, his previous cheeriness completely gone. “I want to learn those theories and apply them properly, rather than just waving a piece of, of wood.”

Feeling flabbergasted and more than slightly hurt, Kíli tried to reason with his friends. “A wizard’s wand is his most prized possession. It’s NOT just a piece of wood! I’m sure maths and physics are fine. But… It’s just…”

“Save your breaths,” said Seamus coolly. “We’re just, what do you call it, Muggles, aren’t we? I’m sure you don’t care about how we think of your brilliant magical world.” With that, both Seamus and Dean were gone, leaving Kíli alone in ankle-deep snow in the garden with only a headless snowman for company. 

Ever since then, Kíli found himself suddenly with a lot more free time, as few fellow orphans followed him around anymore. Even though this gave him ample time to write to Fíli and his other friends from Hogwarts, Kíli did not really appreciate the change. Initially confused, Kíli soon felt hurt and angry. He did not understand why his friends had all apparently abandoned him. It was not like he had said anything horrible. Quidditch is indeed more fun than football. How could it not be when you can fly?! Perhaps his friends just did not understand because they were Muggles. They would never know the feeling of wind bristling in your ear, of diving straight down several hundred feet, of twisting and turning and tumbling in the air. Nor would they know how amazing the tingling sensation feels when one channels their magic to their wand tip and performs unimaginable miracles. He and his friends belonged to two different worlds. If Kíli thought his world was better, he was only being honest.

Despite the justification he gave himself, Kíli still felt extremely disappointed when he saw the small pile of presents on Christmas Day. He used to be the one with one of the biggest piles. What was more, he bought some really interesting presents from the magical world for his friends. How could they do this to him?

“Kíli, is that an owl trying to get inside?” Madam McGonagall’s question brought Kíli out of his sulking. Sure enough, a handsome tawny owl was flying towards the dining room window. Following after the owl was two more owls and three handsome ravens, one of them being his Keeper. All six birds were carrying parcels of various sizes.

“Yeah, they should be for me,” Kíli said, trying hard not to look too smug.

Once the messengers had landed securely on the window sill, which was quite a snug fit, all extended out their legs to present the parcel. Kíli hastened to detach the parcels from the furry messengers. Behind him, he could hear the gasps of surprise and wonder from the other orphans.

“Would you like some food before you take off?” Kíli asked the birds. The ravens turned their beaks up and ruffled their feathers importantly while one of the owls cocked its head to the side, contemplating the matter. Kíli had to suppress his laughter. “Here you go,” he fed some bacon to the owl, who hooted in thanks before taking off with the other birds.

“Wow, that was wicked,” cried Dean. When Kíli looked at him, however, he quickly averted his eyes and turned his focus back to his porridge.

Determined not to spoil his mood, Kíli opened the parcels. The first one, delivered by the tawny owl, was from Aragorn. It was a brand new set of Wizard’s Chess, which Kíli could not wait to try. Hopefully, they would tolerate his abysmal skills more. One of the Knights from Fíli’s set once tried to commit suicide when Kíli accidentally put him right in front of Fíli’s queen. The second one was quite light, which turned out to be from Arwen. The item inside, however, was extremely beautiful. An intricately woven Elven cloak of midnight blue made Kíli gasp. He knew those were rare and could not believe that Arwen would give him something as precious as that. He now felt extremely guilty of his gift to his friends, none of them as remarkable or as precious as these. The third one delivered by owl was from Lindir, which contained a large box of Zonko’s joke shop’s merchandise, including some dung bombs. Kíli roared with laughter at the parcel. Strangely enough, Lindir knew him quite well. 

The gifts from the ravens were from the Dwarves. Gimli sent him a large box of Honey Duke’s sweets, some looking mouth-watering, others downright scary. Ori, true to his character, sent Kíli a book. It was quite an enjoyable one, however, about magical history with a lot of moving pictures. One of them showed the vivid details of a wizard being chased by a troll brandishing his club. The last one, delivered by Keeper, was the smallest of them all. Kíli had a fairly good idea who it was from and he wondered what was inside. He tried not to let the small size upset him, reassuring himself that Fíli was his best friend and would not send him a subpar present. Once he opened the parcel, however, his jaw dropped. Inside was an expensive-looking pendant with a beautifully sculptured jet black raven. On the back of the raven, his name was carved, by the look of it, by hand. Kíli felt his throat close up. Did Fíli make this himself? He could not believe that his friend would put so much thought and effort into a gift for him. Now his gift for Fíli, a silver hair clasp, looked woefully inadequate.

With these gifts to bolster up his spirit, Kíli spent the rest of the day with a big smile on his face. What really surprised him was a package that came later that afternoon from Grasper. It was also quite small but Kíli had learnt not to judge a book by its cover. Opening it up eagerly, Kíli felt his heart stop when he saw what was inside.

Pictures, carefully framed, of a young couple laughing and moving around merrily brought a sob out of Kíli. Without even reading Dwalin’s notes, he knew who they were. 

Frerin was slightly shorter than his wife. He was a strongly-built Dwarf with a joyful face and twinkling blue eyes. Kíli could now see why people say he looked almost exactly like his father. With the same dark curls, thick eyebrows, and straight nose, they looked like twins, had it not been for Kíli’s dark eyes and their different build. 

His mother, Melian, looked nothing like them. Tall and willowy, she had got long wavy dark red hair cascading down her back. The expression on her heart-shaped face was sweet and calm. But when Kíli looked at her dark eyes, he could detect a trace of amusement and mischief, quite often found in his own eyes too, underneath the serene exterior. Kíli felt his heart clench up when he saw his father picking his mother up as if she weighed like a feather and spinning her around, causing her to laugh merrily. He had never felt so close to his parents before. They had ceased to be just an abstract memory. Now they felt like flesh and blood to him, someone with their own stories, their laughter and sorrows, triumphs and blunders. They had finally felt real.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

New Year was a much quieter affair. Clearly, the money spent on Christmas presents had put everyone under quite a bit of a financial strain. Kíli was certainly broke and his friends in the orphanage fared no better. Luckily for Kíli, he had something much more enjoyable to look forward to, for he was going to visit Fíli on January 3rd after Thorin had left for Hogwarts. Not only would Kíli be able to see his best friend after such a long separation, but he would also get to spend several days in a Wizarding home. And not just any home, but Erebor. That thought alone sent shivers down Kíli’s spine.

It was decided that the best way for Kíli to get there was for Dís and Fíli to come and pick him up. When the day finally came, Kíli woke up at 6 in the morning and could not settle down.

“Please relax, Kíli,” said Madam McGonagall, half amused, half stern. “You’re making us nervous. How will they arrive?”

Now that was something Kíli had never considered. Perhaps Fíli’s mum could drive? After all, they went to Hogwarts by train, didn’t they? It was therefore extremely startling when a loud crack came from the garden. Rushing out of the house, Kíli found himself face-to-face with his best friend.

“Fíli,” Kíli cried in absolute delight. Dropping his rucksack, he flung himself into Fíli’s open arms. Laughing merrily, Fíli picked Kíli up and spun him around on the spot with surprising strength. Next to them, Dís chuckled.

“I’m sorry, Mrs Arken,” said Kíli, looking abashed, “I didn’t…”

“Oh dear, no need to worry,” Dís smiled as she came forward to hug Kíli too, ruffling his hair affectionately. “My brother and I used to do sillier things all the time.” Kíli almost shuddered at the mental image of a young and severe-looking Thorin doing things like spinning Dís around or throwing dung bombs. “You’re like a brother Fíli has never had. I’m glad he has you. Now, you must be Madam McGonagall.” 

Behind Kíli, Madam McGonagall and the rest of the children from the orphanage stood together. Madam McGonagall seemed to be the only one who remained calm and collected, for the rest of the crowd were staring open-mouthed at Fíli and Dís. Kíli felt a sudden surge of annoyance. So what if Dís and Fíli appeared out of nowhere and looked shorter and stockier than normal. And yes, Dís did have a beard. Still, it gave them no right to stare like a group of idiots.

“Delighted to make your acquaintance, Mrs Arken.” Madam McGonagall smiled and extended her hand politely. “How are you going to take Kíli with you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Of course not.” Dís smiled and she reached into her pocket to present them an old toy broomstick. Kíli stared at it, not comprehending the situation at all. Was Dís going to extend it to a real-sized one? Even if she did, surely Dís did not expect him to fly on that. It did not look sturdy enough to hold one person, let alone three.

“This is a Portkey,” Dís explained. “It’s a timed object that can take you to your desired location. I’ve got authorisation to create one to take you to our house. I’m not an expert in side-along Apparation, not to mention that I’ve got Fíli with me too. I suppose the Floo network might be easier for you but I don’t have the right to connect the orphanage fireplace to our house.”

Frankly, none of this made much sense for Kíli. Not wishing to appear ignorant in front of his friends, however, Kíli nodded with a confidence he did not feel and said, “that sounds great, Mrs Arken. Thank you so much for all your effort.” His brave front did not deceive Fíli at all though and the young Dwarf winked at Kíli, suppressing laughter. Kíli’s face felt his face heat up slightly.

“Well then, now that you’ve got a plan.” Madam McGonagall turned to Kíli and smiled. “Have a good time Kíli. We’ll see you in the summer?”

“Of course, Madam McGonagall,” beamed Kíli as he hugged Madam McGonagall goodbye. None of his friends displayed any regret for his departure, nor did they show any sign of bidding a more affection farewell. Seething internally, Kíli waved at his friends and turned on his heels. “I’m ready, Mrs Arken.”

Dís smiled and held out the handle of the broomstick for Kíli to grab. She and Fíli held onto the broom too and before Kíli could cast another look at the orphanage, he felt a pull from his navel, as if he had been hooked around his middle, and he was hurled around into unknown space, spinning like mad. If he had not been too shocked and scared, he would have screamed. Luckily, the sensation stopped as quickly as it started. Before Kíli could prepare himself, he was crashing into the ground of a grand-looking room covered with resplendent decorations of gold, silver, and so many other precious gems. 

“Are you alright?” Fíli rushed to Kíli’s side to help him up. “I tried to pick the way of travelling that is easiest for you. Portkey can be a bit tricky for first-time users.”

“That really doesn’t fill me with confidence about magical transportation,” Kíli muttered and Fíli laughed. “Wait until you try side-along Apparation. I’ll do anything if you don’t get sick the first time.”

“Don’t scare him, Fíli,” scolded Dís but her eyes were smiling. “Now my dear, welcome to our quarter in Erebor!”

“It looks absolutely breathtaking, Mrs Arken.” Kíli meant every word, especially as he took in more of the room.

The room was an oval-shaped one with a lavishly-decorated high ceiling. When Kíli squinted his eyes to get a closer look, he realised that it depicted stories of Dwarven histories and legends. He made a mental note to ask Fíli about them later. He wanted to know as much as his own race’s past as possible. The furniture in the room was equally opulent but not excessive. A sofa set of genuine leather and several comfortable armchairs formed a nice square in front of the crackling fireplace. The beautiful fur rug on the floor looked so soft that Kíli wanted to throw himself down and roll on it. Several heavy mahogany doors could be seen on the wall of the sitting room, leading to other rooms that Kíli could not wait to explore.

“Come on, my dear.” Dís levitated Kíli’s duffle bag with a quick wave of her wand. “Let’s get you settled into your room. It’s our guest bedroom, right next to Fíli’s room. I apologise that it’s a bit smaller than our and Thorin’s bedrooms.”

This “small” room was at least thrice the size of the bedroom Kíli shared with 3 other children from the orphanage… The four-poster bed in the centre of the room was smaller but equally regal like those of the old Kings and Queens. It looked so inviting that Kíli could not wait to jump on it. Next to the bed stood a tall wardrobe.

“We tried to find some robes that would fit you,” said Dís with a fond smile. “Fíli told us about your height and I think some of Vilir’s old robes might work. It might be a bit roomy for you though and I know it’s not new. I must apologise for that.”

“Please, Mrs Arken!” Kíli said in earnest. “You’re too nice and generous! Anything would have worked really and I’m extremely grateful for all the thought and effort you’ve put into this. Really, it should be me apologising for causing such trouble for you.”

“Oh nonsense, my dear!” Dís beamed at Kíli. “It’s no trouble at all. I’d love to have Fíli’s friend here. He’s been so excited that he could hardly do anything for the past two days.”

“Mum,” exclaimed Fíli indignantly and he looked slightly bashful. Kíli sniggered. 

“Dinner will be ready in the sitting room in about an hour,” said Dís after checking the golden clock on the dresser. “I’ll leave you two alone so you can catch up and get settled.”

The moment Dís walked out of the door, Kíli threw himself at Fíli, knocking the other Dwarf straight onto the lush bed.

“Get off me, you idiot,” laughed Fíli but Kíli refused to obey.

“I’ve missed you so much!” sighed Kíli, which was perfectly true. After suffering the cold treatment from his old friends at the orphanage, Fíli’s beaming smile looked heaven-sent. “Tell me everything about your holiday! It must be brilliant! I hate not being able to use magic. Do you like my Christmas present? I love yours! Have you met up with Gimli and Ori? Was Professor Thorin here?”

“Woah, slow down here.” Fíli finally deposited Kíli to the spot next to him, which was quite a feat considering Kíli was taller. Kíli beamed at him, waiting patiently with puppy eyes. He knew Fíli could never resist him like this.

Of course, Kíli was right about his best friend. Fíli’s face turned the slightest tinge of pink as he chuckled and said, “the holiday has been great. I really love your present! Uncle was here for both Christmas and New Year. I didn’t get to see anyone else but it was so nice to spend some time with just uncle and mum. Mum refused to let anyone else cook Christmas and New Years Eve dinner. I really missed her cooking. Uncle was busy for the rest of the holiday though. He needs to take care of the family business, as so many other Dwarves who work for Erebor depend on him. He took me to a couple of his engagements.”

“Wow!” Kíli’s eyes were wide as saucers. He knew Fíli was important and groomed to be Thorin’s heir. Nonetheless, the extent of Thorin’s influence amongst Dwarves and Fíli’s involvement in Thorin’s business still surprised him. “What kind of engagements are those?”

“One end-of-the-year financial report meeting and one meeting with the miners. I quite enjoy the latter. It’s nice to talk to the miners about their working and living conditions and listen to their needs. The first one was rather dull but I know it is equally important.”

“Wow,” Kíli said again. This was so out of his world that he was having a hard time trying to picture Fíli, dressed in his most regal clothes, looking and behaving impeccably next to Thorin. “This is so cool. Do you think your uncle will ask you to attend more meetings in the future?”

“I’m sure he will,” snorted Fíli. “Uncle has been very eager to train me but mum has put her foot down. She refused to let me go to any meetings that involve negotiation until I’m at least 15. She said that I need to enjoy my childhood. Uncle wasn’t pleased but he let it go.”

Now Kíli respected Dís even more. Not many people have the courage to stand up to Thorin, let alone succeed in persuading him. He agreed with Dís 100 per cent by the way. Fíli was only 11 years old. He ought to have a happy childhood, learning magic and playing Quidditch and other games, not sitting in a dark meeting room, learning how to deceive others.

“How was your holiday?” asked Fíli and Kíli’s smile fell slightly. His was decidedly not as interesting as Fíli’s. “It was okay, I suppose. I’m absolutely gutted that I can’t use magic. It was so boring that I had been counting days to come back to the magical world. There was absolutely nothing to do in the orphanage that I got most of my homework done! Can you believe it?”

Fíli frowned slightly. “But surely you’ve missed your friend from the orphanage. I thought you’d be busy catching up with them.”

Avoiding Fíli’s eyes, Kíli decided to change the subject. “Could you help me unpack? I’m so tired that I’ll probably pass out right after dinner.”

“Sure…” Fíli still did not look convinced but thankfully did not pursue the subject. Together, they unpacked Kíli’s rucksack, which contained his meagre belongings. The second-hand robes and books looked so out of place in the lavishly-decorated rooms that Kíli felt his face burn in shame.

“It’s alright.” Fíli sensed Kíli’s embarrassment and quickly assured him. “Nobody will judge you here. Mum and I understand your situation. Whatever you wear has nothing to do with who you are.”

“What about the rest of Erebor?” Kíli asked, still feeling uncomfortable. “Won’t they say something when they see that the guest of you and your mother is nothing but a, a, a pauper?”

“Nobody will do that!” cried Fíli. “You’re not just a pauper. You’re a great wizard and Dwarf who are born into this unfortunate and frankly unfair situation. Your parents died fighting for the Light and everyone still alive today owes the peace to them. They have no right to hold that against you.”

“But still,” Kíli insisted, “people like Legolas Greenleaf and Bolg…”

“Those people are not our friends,” Fíli said firmly. “No one in Erebor will ever stoop that low. If they do, they will not be welcome here. Besides, do you really want Legolas or,” his face twisted in distaste, “Bolg’s approval?”

That was a good point, thought Kíli. He would probably be terrified if Legolas or Bolg approved of him. Feeling much better, he smiled at Fíli, who sighed with relief. “You can wear these robes that mum picked out for you if you want. She really likes you, you know? She would never let anyone else touch dad’s old things.”

“Your mother is too kind to me,” Kíli hesitated, wondering if the question he wanted to ask was too personal. Fíli, however, read his mind again. “You can ask mum about dad later. She likes to talk about it. I think that’s her way of dealing with the grief. But save it for when you’re not tired though. She can go on for quite a bit.”

Dinner was a simple and quiet affair. Nobody except the three of them was there, which Kíli was grateful for. He was too exhausted to meet anyone else. The food was absolutely scrumptious, with a soup, an entrée, and a dessert. It was such an improvement to the food in the orphanage that Kíli could not help but eat every single thing that Dís kept piling on his plate.

“You really need to eat more.” Dís insisted as she added another giant slice of cake to Kíli’s plate. “You look far too thin. I didn’t have time to cook dinner today but I’ll make sure I do for the rest of your stay.”

By the time dinner was over, Kíli could hardly walk. After bidding Dís and Fíli goodbye, he went into his room and threw himself onto the bed. It felt so comfortable and warm that he drifted to sleep almost immediately. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas time in Erebor and time for Kíli to learn more about Dwarf culture and history

It felt like only minutes later when Fíli crashed into his room and jumped on his bed. “Wake up, Kíli! Time for breakfast!”

“Huh?” Kíli mumbled, his eyes still closed. He was not ready to get up yet. The bed felt too comfortable and his eyes too heavy.

“Come on, it’s almost 6:30! Time to rise and shine.”

Burrowing himself further into the warm duvets, Kíli refused to cave in. Who in their right minds wakes up at 6:30 in the morning during the Christmas holidays? Fíli was clearly mental.

“Oh, stop being such a baby!” Fíli was apparently adamant in getting Kíli up and running, as he dug Kíli out of his fluffy hole and started shaking him.

“Okay, okay,” Kíli pleaded, half exasperated, half amused. “I’ll get up, okay? No need to give me a concussion.”

“Breakfast is in the dining room,” beamed Fíli. “And don’t be late!”

By the time Kíli got dressed and arrived at the dining room, Fíli and Dís were already halfway through their breakfast. Now that Kíli was more awake, he immediately felt bad for his manners. It is impolite to sleep in while the hosts are ready. When he started to apologise, though, Dís cut him off. “No need to worry, my dear. We’re used to waking up early because we always have so much work to do. It’s a habit hard to shake off even in these times. I should apologise for Fíli’s behaviour,” she shot Fíli a mildly reproachful look, which had Fíli look down in shame. “He should not have disturbed you like that.”

“Please, Mrs Arken, there’s nothing you or Fíli need to apologise for. I promise I’ll try to adapt to your schedule more.” He turned to Fíli, “do you usually have to wake up this early, even outside of Hogwarts?”

Fíli nodded. “Uncle has insisted that my education be not limited to Hogwarts or even Magic. He wants me to be well-versed in the history of all Magical beings, particularly Dwarves, of course.”

“Does Professor Thorin teach you that?” Kíli wondered how Thorin had the time to do that, on top of his teaching and family duties.

“No, uncle is too busy to teach me everything. He enlists the help of the other Dwarven professors, mostly Professor Balin. But Dwalin said that he will start teaching me magical duelling, in addition to the regular ones.”

Kíli’s eyes lit up. Magical duelling! This was even more exciting than regular duelling, not that he had done either. “When did you start learning regular duelling? Do you learn some kind of martial arts?”

“Sort of. It’s mostly training on your movement and agility, which can play a surprisingly large role in magical duelling. Professor Dwalin is really good with wrestling too so he’s been teaching me that, in case I lose my wand and need to fight without magic.”

To be honest, Kíli was still surprised by the extent of Fíli’s training. He supposed that was how life is for an heir of an important Pureblood family. On one hand, Kíli was quite jealous that Fíli got all those opportunities to learn all the cool new magic. But on the other hand, he did feel bad for Fíli. He was only 11 years old. He ought to be running around with his friends, doing crazy and probably stupid things. Eventually, the former sentiment won out and Kíli asked with his best puppy eyes, “can I learn duelling with you, both the magical and regular one?”

Fíli laughed, “I know you’d be interested in that and I’ve also asked Dwalin about it. Now that we’re in Hogwarts, he can only teach me during the weekends. We can definitely include you in those lessons. But mind you, Dwalin is a very strict teacher. He won’t let you off easy simply because you’re tagging along. Besides, uncle usually evaluates my progress every couple of months. Are you okay with interacting with him outside of Potions?”

The most obvious answer would be a resounding no. Yet Kíli knew that as Fíli’s best friend, he needed to make an effort with Thorin. Bracing himself, he nodded bravely. “Sure. I’m sure my duelling will be much better than my Potions. Maybe Professor Thorin will change his opinion about me after he’s seen how good I am.”

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After a hearty breakfast, which took much longer than Kíli anticipated because he simply could not stop eating, Fíli offered to give Kíli a detailed tour of Erebor, which Kíli gladly accepted. Even though Dwalin had taken him to his family vault, Kíli had never been inside an actual mine before. He could hardly contain his excitement on his ride down.

“How many people work here?”

“We have more than a thousand families working for Erebor,” Fíli said as he steered the cart effortlessly. He had clearly done this before, which surprised Kíli. Despite the knowledge that Fíli was very involved in the family business, Kíli did not expect Fíli, the only heir to the mining kingdom, to get his hands dirty. This made him respect Fíli even more. His friend was not a pampered prince. He was a hardworking Dwarf with heavy responsibilities weighing on his young shoulders.

“That’s an awful lot of miners.” Kíli found it difficult to imagine a thousand miners working at the same time. It must be quite a sight to behold.

“Less than half of them actually work with metals. Amongst them, not all are miners.”

Kíli blinked. “Right, I see. Er, how do you mine magically anyway?”

“The miners need to be good at Charms because precious metals are hard to detect and even harder to extract. Of course, you can do it the Muggle way, using brute force without caring about the environment. But we try to extract them as gently as possible while still preserving Mother Nature’s ability to regenerate. It’s tricky.”

Now that was interesting. Kíli wondered if this could be his future. He was pretty good at Charms after all and he was a Dwarf. “What about the rest of them?”

“The rest who work with metals design and forge the metals, turning them into all kinds of magical items. It requires very advanced Transfiguration skills and understanding of Dwarven magic.”

“Dwarven magic?”

“Yes. There’s a reason why Dwarves are the best at forging metals. We impart our special brand of magic to the enchanted items, making them not only aesthetically pleasing but also magically powerful.”

“Wow!” Kíli’s eyes were wide with surprise and admiration. “Where do you learn such magic?”

“It’s passed down from father to son in the family,” said Fíli. “It’s very private and very secret. Even someone like uncle cannot claim to know much about it because our family has never been that involved in the actual making of those magical objects.”

That was slightly disappointing for Kíli, who had been all too eager to learn about it. He soon comforted himself that he was unlikely to qualify for such a position anyway, given his trouble in Transfiguration. “What about the rest of them?”

“Oh, they’re mostly in the administrative arena, managing logistics, negotiating deals, etc.”

“Does everyone live in Erebor?”

“Mahal no! A lot of the miners work in other cities or countries. The mine in Erebor is only a small source of precious metal for us. I doubt we can house everyone anyway, even though Erebor is big. There are about fifty families in Erebor at the moment because things are looking good. So most of the families have moved out to find their own place. But we used to house a lot more. If anyone is in need of a place to stay now, we have enough room in Erebor to help them. Uncle has always made it his first priority to help his fellow Dwarves, which is why everyone respects him so much.”

Sure enough, when they had arrived at the mine, all the workers stopped, even mid-spell-casting, and lowered their wands, nodding respectfully at Fíli. Despite its underground location, it was well-lit with spots of faery lights stuck to the ceiling that was quite low even for Dwarves. Yet the place was impeccably clean, without the soot or dust that Kíli learnt to associated with the Muggle mines. In fact, if he did not know before, he would assume that this was an underground cave for hiking and exploration. The miners did not look like the Muggle miners Kíli had seen on the television either. Everyone appeared strong, healthy, clean, and happy. One thing Kíli did notice, however, was a very faint bubble encasing every miner’s head that looked like upside-down fish bowls. 

“Bubble-head charm,” Fíli explained at the curious look on Kíli’s face. “It protects the miners from breathing in unwelcome toxins and supplies oxygen. It’s standard practice for them.”

As Kíli looked around to take in as much of the surroundings as he could, Fíli spent his time chatting with the miners. From their relaxed posture and the easy smile on their faces, Kíli could tell that they knew and liked Fíli well. 

After exchanging pleasantries, Fíli grabbed Kíli so they could step aside to allow the miners to work. It was utterly fascinating to see the miners work together, waving their wand in intricate patterns while chanting foreign incantations. The earth glowed with vibrant colours under their spells as walls parted to allow small amounts of precious metals to be extracted. Kíli felt himself swell with pride. They were his people and he wanted to be like them one day, to truly belong. 

They shared a simple lunch with the miners before they bid them farewell. The rest of the day was spent going through workshops, storage rooms, and other parts of Erebor. It seemed that wherever they went, people showed their respect and kindness. Some even insisted on serving them tea, which Fíli graciously accepted. The whole place looked affluent and prosperous with beautiful decorations and cheerful people everywhere. Kíli could not help but feel some begrudging respect for Thorin, who had managed to do his people justice, despite his other faults.

Dinner was an equally pleasant experience. The food was even tastier than before while Dís inquired after Kíli’s first day at Erebor.

“I’m so pleased that you’re enjoying yourself,” Dís smiled wide with relief. “Erebor is a wonderful place but not everyone can appreciate its beauty.” When Kíli gave her a puzzled look, Dís explained, “the Elves, Hobbit and some Men find Erebor too dark and depressing for them, being underground with little sunshine. While they covet the Dwarves’ wealth, they have no strong mind nor magic to undertake the hard work we put in to acquire our fortune. That’s why we seldom have outside guests at Erebor. Speaking of guests, Dwalin and Balin will join us for dinner in several days’ time, right before your return to Hogwarts. Will that be alright with you? I’m planning on cooking a big feast for us, which has kept me busy.”

“Of course, Mrs Arken,” said Kíli sincerely. “This is your home. Besides, I’ll be happy to see Professor Dwalin again.”

After dinner was over, Fíli joined Kíli in his bedroom. “So, how do you like your first day in Erebor?” Fíli asked in a teasing tone. “I hope we’ve lived up to your expectations so you don’t regret leaving the orphanage too early.”

“Oh, come off it Fíli,” laughed Kíli, “you can’t seriously mean that. I mean you literally rescued me from the prison of boredom.” So excited was Kíli that he failed to notice the slight frown on Fíli’s face. “There was nothing for me to do in the orphanage while I have so much to see and experience here.”

“I thought you were spending time catching up with your friends from the orphanage,” said Fíli slowly.

“Yeah, but you know what it’s like.” Kíli waved carelessly. “It was tolerable for the first couple of days. They followed me around everywhere, asking questions about the magical world. I mean it got a bit annoying but I can hardly blame them. They have no idea what they’re missing out, do they? But soon it just became so boring. I mean, they know nothing about our world so what have we got in common? They’re just Muggles, aren’t they?”

It was only Fíli’s silence that finally caught Kíli’s attention. His friend was unusually quiet. The look on his face was certainly not pride nor understanding.

“Did you happen to share your opinion with them?” Fíli asked calmly and Kíli turned slightly pink. “Well, not directly, of course. I might have let it slip once or twice.”

“And how did they react to it?”

Kíli finally looked down. “They stopped talking to me afterwards.”

Fíli sighed and rose up from his seat to sit next to Kíli. “Do you remember how you felt every time when Legolas insulted you about your upbringing and blood?”

“Of course, I do!” Kíli said indignantly. “How can I forget? He practically called me half-blooded Muggle filth! I mean, he knows nothing about me and judged me simply based on my blood and upbringing! I can’t choose who my parents are, nor where I grew up. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with growing up in a Muggle orphanage. I turned out fine, didn’t I?”

Fíli did not answer but simply looked at him with his blue eyes. And it finally dawned on Kíli. “I was doing exactly the same thing as Legolas, wasn’t I?” Kíli felt his voice leaving him and he forced himself to carry on. “Except I was doing it to my friends, which is worse.” He looked up at Fíli pleadingly, trying to justify his horrible treatment of his friends. “But I was right in some way. I mean, they really know nothing about the magical world. They don’t understand what I go through. I…” He looked down again and finally confessed. “I just feel that we’ve drifted apart and I am, once again, the odd one out in the group.”

Fíli wrapped his arm around Kíli. “I understand how you feel. It’s not easy being different. We all want to fit in and be like everyone else. But our differences are what makes us unique. We’re all different individuals. We’ve all got our strengths and weaknesses.”

“You’re not that different,” muttered Kíli. “If anything, people love you because you’re the only heir of Professor Thorin. I don’t mind that kind of difference.”

Fíli laughed. “Not everybody adores me. Some hate me for exactly that. And how do you know I don’t wish to be like all the other Dwarflings? I used to hate the fact that I’m uncle’s nephew. It meant that the other Dwarflings treated me differently. It meant that I was stuck in my room, studying Dwarf history while others were out playing. How I wished for a normal childhood back then!”

Now that was something Kíli could easily have imagined if his first day in Erebor was anything to go by. He tried to picture himself in Fíli’s position and realised that he would have been even more miserable. “How did you deal with it then?” asked Kíli, genuinely curious now. 

“I learnt to appreciate uniqueness, not just in myself, but in others. It takes great courage to be different and to be comfortable with it. But once you do, you know you can make a difference. Look at all the great men and women in history, both magical and Muggle, are they just like anybody else?”

Kíli pondered the idea. It was true that most of the great figures in history stood out and did great things because they were different. A lot of them were not accepted at their times but they stood by who they were and what they believed, which made them great. 

“What first caught my attention about you was your uniqueness.” Fíli smiled when Kíli gave him a surprised look. “I was used to seeing Dwarflings more or less like myself but you are different. Despite your less privileged upbringing, you are brave, cheerful, bright, and kind. You’re loyal to your friend and you’re not judgemental or prejudiced. Do you know how deep the prejudice against Elves run in the Dwarf society? Had it not been you, we wouldn’t have made friends with Elves like Lindir, although,” Fíli chuckled, “Lindir might have wormed his way into our lives anyway.”

Kíli grinned. “He probably will, just because he’s Lindir.” His expression then turned serious. “And now I’ve made a mess back in the orphanage, doing exactly what I hate and what I should not be doing.”

“We all make mistakes,” said Fíli consolingly. “It’s fine as long as we recognise and rectify it. Make amends. Apologise to your friends. Let them know that you were wrong and that you still care about them. They will forgive you. I’m sure they will.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day, Kíli took Fíli’s advice and wrote a long letter to his friends. He explained what he had seen in Erebor in great detail, trying to enlighten his friends on the magical world as much as possible. He also asked about their schoolwork, which was not easy for he had to rack his brain to remember what he learnt in Muggle primary school to ask meaningful questions. In the end, he expressed his wish to return during the summer to see them again. 

“You should apologise,” said Fíli when he looked over Kíli’s shoulder to read his letter.

“Oi,” cried Kíli indignantly but he did heed Fíli’s advice and added his apology. “Do you have some pictures of Erebor or Hogwarts? I want to send them to Sean and Seamus. They’d be so chuffed to see a moving picture.”

“Of course!” Fíli rushed back to his room and came back with several pictures. The great thing about magic was that all the pictures were moving. On the downside, however, there were no films or videos, which Kíli sometimes missed. 

Once he had sent the letter, Kíli felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his chest. He was not sure if his friends would forgive him but at least he had tried. So he spent the rest of the day exploring more of Erebor with Fíli, which had them end up in a giant library. 

Even though Kíli was no Ori, he was still dazzled to see the grand library of Erebor, which was at least the same size as the one in Hogwarts, if not more. Shelves upon shelves of books were all stacked up neatly. There were so many of them that Kíli could not see the end of the room in either direction.

“It took uncle a long time to rebuild it,” said Fíli with a longing look on his face. “I was not lucky enough to see the old one, which, according to uncle, was the grandest one of them all. Only the library of Lothlórien could match it. But unfortunately, most of its contents were destroyed when Erebor fell. Once uncle had reclaimed Erebor, he had many scholars either gather or recount the content of the books. Professor Balin led that project and he has done a wonderful job.”

“I can see that,” Kíli sighed in awe. “There are so many of them.”

“You can take some if you want.” Fíli offered. “Maybe some books about magical theory? Or books about magical history? We’ve got books about more than just Dwarves.”

In the end, Kíli picked two books, exactly as Fíli suggested. When he was in the orphanage, Kíli was by no means the greatest reader there. Now that he had discovered the magical world, however, he found himself much more inclined to learn about the world, even if he did have to read some books. While the magical theory book turned out to be great bedtime reading as it put Kíli to sleep within 2 seconds without fail, the moving pictures in the history book were highly entertaining. Kíli thought he even spotted a Dwarf who looked remarkably like Dáin with long unkempt red hair, fighting a gigantic monster. Perhaps madness does run in the family.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next several days passed quickly, too quick in Kíli’s opinion. Now that he was in Erebor and not in front of Muggles, Kíli could not only do his written homework but also practice actual spells. With Fíli next to him, Kíli found himself progressing much faster.

“Try waving your wand more slowly,” Fíli said patiently as Kíli tried his hardest to transfigure a mouse to a snuff box. His previous attempts were simply abysmal, turning the poor mouse halfway with only its head transformed. It took them a couple of minutes to catch the mouse, which was running around blind with a metal box head… “You have to let your magic flow slowly and steadily so you transform the whole mouse.”

They also practice Defence Against Dark Arts, which was much more Kíli’s forte. His knockback jinx was powerful enough to throw Fíli several feet back. His Vermillious spell was equally strong, sending red sparks down Fíli’s way so forcefully that Fíli had to take steps back to avoid them.

Despite Kíli’s reluctance, Fíli insisted on revising Potions too. His theory was that with Thorin’s absence, Kíli could relax more and concentrate better. To Kíli’s surprise, this turned out to be quite true. He was able to brew a passable Forgetfulness Potion in Thorin’s personal Potions’ lab. It was not as effective as Fíli’s, which made him forget his whole last week until Fíli gave him the antidote. But at least it was working, which was a great deal better than his congealed orange concoction in class that robbed him of his speech and rendered him howling like a werewolf until Oín sorted him out.

Outside of homework, Kíli also got to fly on a broomstick, thanks to the vastness of Erebor. He was a bit reluctant at first, fearing that he might crash into something and damage some extremely ancient and valuable artefacts. Fíli, however, assured him that nothing in Erebor could be damaged beyond magical repair by a mere broom accident. It felt wonderful to be back on a broom again and Kíli seriously considered trying out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team next year.

Too soon for his liking, the time to return back to Hogwarts came. True to her words, Dís prepared a lavish feast the night before their return. At half-past six that evening, Dwalin and Balin turned up at the door and the party began.

“How are yeh, lad?” Dwalin boomed as he gave Kíli a bone-crushing hug when Kíli walked into the sitting room. “Did yeh like my Christmas present?”

“It is the best ever!” Kíli said excitedly. “I can’t thank you enough, Professor Dwalin! Those pictures are just unbelievable. I…”

“It’s nothin’, lad.” Dwalin patted Kíli surprisingly gently on the back. “It’s the least I can do for yeh. Yeh ought to know yer parents more. Melian and Frerin would have been so proud of you.”

“Of course, they would,” said Dís with conviction in her tone. “Frerin would be amazed by your Defence Against Dark Arts skills at such a young age. Melian would have loved your kind and cheerful personality.”

“You know my parents well?” Kíli asked, feeling new waves of excitement.

“Of course, I do,” smiled Dís. “They were two of my closest friends. Frerin was a fellow Gryffindor. He was the same year as Thorin and Dwalin, so two years older than me. We used to love his pranks in the Common Room. He was the life of a party and a wonderful Quidditch player.”

“Yeah, so good that half of the girls in Gryffindor were in love with him,” Dwalin snorted. “I used to forbid him to come to Hogsmeade with me because all the girls would come to talk to him.”

Dís laughed. “Yeah, I forgot about that. Your father was certainly very popular. But he had his eyes on one girl only though, your mother.”

“Tell me more about her,” Kíli asked eagerly.

“Melian was in my year,” said Dís with a reminiscent smile. “She was in Ravenclaw, which was not surprising considering how bright she was. I used to partner with her in Charms and Arithmancy. She helped me so much with those subjects. I honestly don’t think I’ve met someone kinder than your mother. She was never the loud one. In fact, I don’t think she liked the attention at all, which was a bit of a problem for your father because he drew attention wherever he went. He courted your mother for at least three years before she finally agreed to go out with him.”

“That long?”

“That’s because Frerin was an idiot,” Dwalin shook his head and chortled. “He tried to impress Melian first, with his stupid pranks and stunts, which, of course, did not work. I swear that Melian was the one who cursed all his hair off in my sixth year. It took a good week for it to wear off. Brilliant at magic, yer mother was. Nothing we did made any difference and Frerin’s own spell only turned his bald head green.”

“It’s always the quiet ones you’ve got to watch out for,” Dís laughed. “Your father was quite clueless really. He tried to court your mother as if she was like those shallow girls who fell at his feet for his good looks, his popularity, or his family history. But your mother was never like that. Finally, Frerin came to his senses and started courting Melian for real. He did manage to convince Melian that his intention towards her was sincere. This was particularly important for Melian because she feared that Frerin’s family would not accept her because she was not only a Man but also a Muggleborn. In fact, there were quite a few raised eyebrows when Frerin started to court Melian. But Frerin was adamant. He set his eyes on nobody but Melian. They started going out in Frerin’s seventh year. I remember Frerin used to come back to every Hogsmeade weekend after he had graduated to meet Melian.”

“They even snuck into the castle a couple of times,” said Balin, who had been quiet the entire time until now. He laughed heartily at the scandalised look on Dís and Dwalin’s face. “At least that was what Frerin told me.” 

“He had never told me,” cried Dwalin, frowning. “He must be boasting then.”

“Too right he was! I would have noticed if that were true,” said Dís sharply. “I used to spend quite a lot of time in the Ravenclaw Common Room in my sixth and seventh year.”

“Well, but you had your eyes glued on Vilir and your tongue down his throat,” smirked Balin. “It was entirely possible that you had missed them.”

Kíli choked on his orange juice. He never expected quiet Balin to talk like this. Fíli’s face, on the other hand, turned beet red with embarrassment. “Please don’t talk about things like this in front of me. I’m still young and I might have nightmares about it.”

Kíli looked from Dís to Balin to Fíli. None of them seemed too upset about the mention of Fíli’s father. Dwalin did not chastise them either, though he was still frowning. He had to ask because he was just too curious. “So Fíli’s father was a Ravenclaw too?”

“Oh, yes,” smiled Dís. “Vilir was in my year too. In fact, he and I got together partly thanks to your mother. She was the one who introduced us. Once we got to know each other a bit more, though, it was clear that we were each other’s Ones, just like Melian was Frerin’s One.”

“This is a curious Dwarf concept,” Balin explained at the confused look on Kíli’s face. If he was mildly interested in the conversations before, he was fully engaged now as his eyes lit up at the topic. “There has been this long belief that for each Dwarf, there’s a One for him or her. It’s perhaps akin to what the Muggles call ‘soulmate’. Legend has it that Dwarves only love once in their lifetime and they can only fall in love with their One.”

“But,” Kíli felt both intrigued and a bit weary, “what if that One has died or you never find your One because you never meet each other?”

“I believe that partially explains the number of single Dwarves, which is much higher than say, Men,” said Balin. “If a Dwarf does not meet their One, the Dwarf often remains single for their whole life. Some from powerful pureblood families will choose to form an alliance but that’s purely for political reasons. Similarly, if a Dwarf has lost their One, they will never remarry, not for love anyway.”

“It’s okay, Kíli.” Dís smiled when she saw the horror-struck look on Kíli’s face. “Finding your One is the most wonderful experience one can ever imagine. After you’ve found your One, you will not want to be with anyone else. I feel extremely lucky to have found Vilir and I cherish every single minute I had spent with him. I have no plan to remarry or be with anyone because my heart simply tells me no. Thankfully, my brother respects my decision.”

“On the other hand,” Dwalin said, the expression on his face unreadable, “you can be assured of your partner’s fidelity when it comes to Dwarves. We have no cheating partners like those in Men.”

“So this One concept is only for Dwarves,” wondered Kíli out loud. “What happens if a Dwarf is in love with an Elf or a Man?”

“As far as we know, no other races have the concept of One,” answered Balin knowledgeably. “Elves are also known for their faithfulness but once their partner has passed away, it is not uncommon for an Elf to seek another partner. The same can be said about Hobbits. Men, on the other hand, seem to be more fickle when it comes to the affairs of the heart. This is another reason why Frerin’s union with Melian was frowned upon. The Dwarves feared that Melian would not remain faithful, which, of course, was completely unfounded. She was totally devoted to your father as he was to her.”

“Can two Dwarves have the same One?”

“It can happen,” said Dwalin, who looked suddenly glum. Next to him, Balin patted his arm sympathetically before continuing, “unfortunately yes. It does not happen very often but once it does, it is usually a tragic story, because the Dwarf that holds their attention can only give his or her heart to one of them. There is bound to be one left brokenhearted. It is the worst fate of a Dwarf, far worse than losing or never meeting one’s One. Even some of the strongest Dwarves have been known to suffer severely and even perish from the heartbreak.”

“How do you know who’s your One?”

“You just do,” said Dís with a beautiful smile on her face. “I still remember the day I realised that Vilir was my One. The beating of my heart was so different when I saw him that day. It was like I was asleep before and suddenly I was awake. You may get crushes on others or even relationships before your One but nothing compares to that. Your soul calls for him and you feel the calm and peacefulness of finally finding your other half.”

“So it didn’t happen when you first met him?”

“No, although I did like him from the start. It only happened after we had been very good friends for quite some time. I think it takes a while for your soul to recognise your One, which is preferable because you get to know each other better.”

Although Kíli could not be sure whether he would fall into the Dwarves’ category when it came to matters of the heart, for he was only a half-Dwarf after all, he sincerely hoped that if he did, he would find his One and live happily ever after with her. He comforted himself in thinking that in a lot of ways, it sounded like a blessing, for it took away a lot of the guessing in the matter. 

Once they had finished their food, quite a feat on its own for Dís made enough to feed a small army, Balin and Dwalin rose to bid them farewell. 

“You’ve got an early start tomorrow,” smiled Balin. “We better take our leave and let you rest and perhaps pack.”

“Are you going back to Hogwarts?” Kíli asked curiously.

“Yes,” said Balin and he walked to the fireplace. Kíli’s eyes widened when Dís passed Balin a small pot of shiny powder. 

“Floo powder,” explained Dwalin. “Even though we can apparate in and out of Erebor, we can’t do that in Hogwarts. Its protection ensures that no one can do that. Of course, we can apparate back to Hogsmeade but I don’t fancy walking in this weather all the way back to the castle. Floo powder allows yeh to travel between connected fireplaces. Thorin’s at Hogwarts is of course connected to this one.”

“Why didn’t Professor Thorin join us today?” Kíli finally asked the question that had been on his mind. Not that he missed the sulking Potions Master. But his absence at his sister’s household was curious.

“Thorin was busy with school work and other stuff.” Unless Kíli was very much mistaken, Dwalin was not meeting his eyes. “I thought you didn’t want to see him anyway.”

“It’s more like the other way around,” Kíli said in a small voice.

“Listen, lad,” Dwalin said with a firm tone, “yeh’ve done nothing wrong. I promise I’ll speak to Thorin about it. I tried but he was always busy. I’m going to make an effort this term. If he gives yeh a hard time again, come and see me right away. I’ll talk some sense into him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully Kíli's character growth is not handled too abruptly.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's back to school, with a little bit of action going on.

When Kíli woke up the next morning, it was to some delicious-smelling breakfast levitating in front of him.

“Oh good, you’re up.” Dís let out a sigh of relief and tucked her wayward hair haphazardly when she saw Kíli walking into the room with his empty breakfast tray. Before Kíli could respond, she levitated the tray directly into the sink and it started cleaning itself immediately. “We need to hurry up now. Otherwise, you’ll both miss the train.”

“Can’t we Floo into Professor Thorin’s office like Professor Dwalin and Balin did last night?” Kíli was dying to try the Floo powder after witnessing the other Dwarves stepping into emerald green flames and disappearing after that. 

“We could,” said Fíli, who had just walked in with the same empty breakfast tray, “but uncle doesn’t like it. He insists that we should be treated exactly the same as any other students and follow the exact same procedure. So unless you have a very good reason, uncle will be barking mad when we turn up at his fireplace covered in soot.” At Kíli’s alarmed look, he quickly added, “it only happens the first couple of times. You’ll get used to it and avoid creating a mess.”

So at 11 o’clock that day, Kíli and Fíli turned up at Platform 9¾ as they did several months ago, waiting to board Hogwarts Express.

“Please do write,” Dís addressed both Fíli and Kíli as she hugged and kissed them in turn. Fíli smiled and nodded at his mother while Kíli felt his face heat up as he mumbled his consent. “I know you’re well looked after but I still worry. Mothers always do. If you need anything, let me know right away.” She kissed them both again when the horn sounded behind them. “Please be careful and be good. Have a good term!”

The train ride this time was much more pleasant. They were soon joined by Ori and Gimli in their compartment and they started exchanging holiday stories. To Kíli’s surprise, Ori’s turned out to be the most exciting one.

“Nori took me to Egypt to see the Pyramids,” Ori said, his eyes wide with excitement. “It was unbelievable there! You can’t imagine how many curses were put inside the Pyramids to keep the Muggles and other tomb raiders at bay. We almost ran into a Sphinx! A live Sphinx!”

“Wow!” Kíli was so impressed that he was practically speechless. He had never left England, let alone Europe. The fact that the Pyramids were charmed was also fascinating and he could not wait to go one day and explore himself.

“How did Dori let you go?” Gimli laughed, “I swear he gets a heart attack every time you so much as sneeze.”

“Well,” Ori looked slightly sheepish, “Nori sort of smuggled me out of my room in the middle of the night. He left Dori a note and we just, well, left.”

Gimli wasn’t the only one laughing now. “What happened when you finally got back?” Fíli asked with mirth in his eyes.

“Dori nearly strangled Nori on the spot,” Ori smiled reminiscently. “I honestly don’t know how Nori got out of that one. I just fled upstairs the moment I saw Dori.”

They were also visited by some other friends. Aragorn made a quick appearance with Arwen before they went on to resume their Prefect duties. “Or snogging in the water closet,” muttered Gimli and the rest of them sniggered. Tauriel and Lindir stopped by longer and they had a good time watching the pair bickering with each other over their Quidditch teams.

When they arrived at Hogsmeade Station this time, Kíli was surprised to see that they were not going to Hogwarts via the Black Lake. 

“That was only reserved for our first time to Hogwarts,” said Fíli. “It was the best way to see Hogwarts and I think they really want to impress us. We’re going by carriages this time.”

True to Fíli’s words, Kíli soon found himself face to face with some horseless carriages. After they got in, the carriages started moving as if an invisible force was pulling it. Magic really was wonderful, thought Kíli a little groggily.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The second term seemed to pass even faster than his first. Now that they had a bit more background, the professors dived straight into the class material. Kíli soon found himself buried under homework and revision. In fact, he was so busy that before he knew it, it was already the middle of February. 

“Ravenclaw is playing Slytherin next week,” Fíli announced seriously at dinner one day. “You’re coming to watch, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” said Kíli without any hesitation. He might not know the Ravenclaw team that well, but he knew that Arwen and Lindir were both Chasers and he felt obliged to cheer them on, especially since they were playing Slytherin.

Legolas and Bolg’s bullying of Kíli had hardly stopped this term. If anything, it got worse. Legolas’s attempts were now no longer limited to the Potions classroom. He was trying his best to sabotage Kíli at every possible opportunity. Unfortunately for Kíli, Legolas was rather skilled at magic, which meant that his tricks were usually effective. Kíli had soon learnt to stay alert all the time and had added some very useful spells and jinxes to his arsenal. 

Not unusual for the week before a Quidditch match, members of the rival Houses started to go at each other, particularly the actual team members. It depends on the Houses, but Slytherin is always a House known for its sneak attacks against the other Houses. Thorin, who was well-known for his protectiveness and sometimes bias, turned a blind eye to reports of foul play committed by his own House. Even though Kíli knew that Fíli was not really in danger since he was not on the Quidditch team, he still kept a close eye on his friend, just in case something happened.

Something did happen to Fíli, except it was not even directed at Fíli, but Kíli instead, which made the whole thing ten times worse.

It happened at the end of their Thursday double Herbology. It was actually their first time in Greenhouse 2, where more interesting and dangerous plants were housed. Of course, they were not allowed to handle the plants yet, for they were far too advanced at that point. But Bilbo did want to show them some of those curious plants. Kíli and Fíli particularly enjoyed the Bouncing Bulb, a large purple bulb that danced around unless it was restrained. It tried valiantly to escape Bilbo’s grasp and the whole class watched the small Hobbit professor squash the plant back into its pot with surprising strength and ease in amazement.

By the time the class was dismissed, everyone was properly intrigued. As most of the students left for the castle, Kíli and Fíli stayed behind because Ori had a question for Bilbo.

“I think this book might interest you,” said Bilbo, his eyes shining with enthusiasm. “It’s called  _ Magical Mediterranean Water-Plants and Their Properties _ . Of course, most of the plants covered in the book are well beyond the first-year level but…”

“I’d love to read it.” Ori’s eyes lit up at the mere mention of the book. Kíli exchanged a smirk with Fíli. Only books could get Ori so excited.

“Brilliant,” Bilbo clasped his hands together, “come on, let’s go and get the book. It’s in my office in Greenhouse 3.”

“We’ll wait for you here,” Kíli shouted as the pair left. Ori, who was deep in conversation with Bilbo, merely waved his hand in acknowledgement without even turning back to look at Kíli.

“At this rate, we’ll have another Professor Bilbo amongst us soon,” Fíli sighed with a fond smile on his face. “I won’t be surprised if I wake up tomorrow to find the dormitory occupied by exotic magical plants.”

“Well, at least Ori is not following Professor Dáin,” Kíli laughed. “Can you imagine what your dormitory will look like in that case?”

Both of them shuddered at the thought and then laughed. As a result, none of them noticed the jet of orange light shot at them.

The series of events happened so quickly that Kíli had no time to react at all. First, he saw the smile vanish from Fíli’s face. Before he could ask Fíli what was wrong, Fíli had pushed him out of the way so hard that Kíli landed heavily on his bottom, which left him winded and disoriented. When he finally looked up, the scene in front of him made his heart stop.

Fíli had clearly been jinxed because his legs had collapsed and no longer moving. Unfortunately, directly behind him was a pot of Devil’s Snare, which had latched itself happily onto Fíli when the Dwarf fell backwards. Kíli watched in horror as the snake-like tendrils, some as thick as a child’s forearm, wrapped themselves around Fíli and strangled him so hard that Fíli’s face was slowly turning blue.

“Fíli!” Kíli screamed in total panic. Bilbo only told them what the Devil’s Snare did, which was to ensnare and strangle anything that touched it, not how to escape from it. “What do I do?”

Unfortunately, Fíli was too preoccupied with breathing to answer him. Getting desperate, Kíli started throwing every spell he knew at the Devil’s Snare. Most of them, of course, had no effect whatsoever. The only thing that changed was the colour of Fíli’s face, which was turning blueish grey. Panicking even more, Kíli’s spell turned even more aggressive and finally, he hit the jackpot. The blue flame he threw at the Devil’s Snare worked instantly, as the tentacles recoiled at once as if burnt. Getting more encouraged, Kíli concentrated hard and aimed the flame at the tentacles around Fíli’s neck, trying his hardest not to burn Fíli at the same time. To his great surprise, it actually worked. The fire drove the tentacles away and only singed some of Fíli’s golden locks. Rushing forward, Kíli dragged Fíli, who still looked pale and resolutely unconscious, away from the deadly plant as quickly as he could while throwing more flame at it to keep the tentacles at bay. Finally, they were safely away.

“What in the name of Merlin is going on?” Bilbo’s dumbfounded voice startled Kíli, who wheezed brokenly, “Fíli, Devil’s Snare, Hospital Wing.” 

“Oh, dear!” Without another word, Bilbo hurried forward and conjured a stretcher. He levitated Fíli carefully onto the stretcher, which floated in midair, and moved towards the Hospital Wing. Kíli tried to stand up but collapsed halfway through. Only then did he realise that he was shaking uncontrollably and all his energy was gone. Thankfully, Ori was there to pull him up. Kíli had to lean so heavily on Ori that the other Dwarf had to practically carry Kíli out of the greenhouse to follow Bilbo and Fíli. There was no word of complaint from Ori, however. Instead, the Dwarf kept muttering soothing encouraging words to Kíli.

Given Kíli’s physical incapacitation, it took the pair a while to reach the Hospital Wing. When they finally did, the room was already packed with Professors.

“Out of my way! Out of my way!” boomed Oín, the Healer. He parted the crowd with no effort to Fíli’s bedside. Kíli felt his throat close up when he saw Fíli’s inert form. Next to him stood Professor Thorin, his eyes fixed on his nephew, his face stormy.

It was Dwalin who noticed Kíli first. “How are yeh, lad?” The Defence Against Dark Arts professor rushed to Kíli’s side and relieved Ori of the task of physically carrying Kíli. “Are yeh hurt too? Oín!”

“What?” The Healer shouted back impatiently. Oín was slightly deaf, which made communication with him tricky at the best of times. Kíli quickly assured Dwalin, “I’m fine, sir. Just exhausted. How’s Fíli?”

“Oín reckons he’ll be okay,” Dwalin said and he patted Kíli gently on the back. “Don’t worry, laddie. Oín never fails.”

“Thank goodness,” Kíli muttered as he sagged against Dwalin, finally letting out a breath of relief. He was so absolutely exhausted that he felt he could pass out any minute. Unfortunately, he had no such luxury.

Despite being at the receiving end of Thorin’s temper many times during Potions, Kíli was still not ready to face Thorin’s wraths, for the look on Thorin’s face was the most terrifying thing Kíli had ever seen. 

“What. in. the. name. of. Mahal. happened?”

Trembling slightly, from exhaustion or fear he knew not, Kíli recounted the story to everyone in the room. Once he was done, the whole room fell into deadly silence.

“Somebody cursed Fíli?” Nori, who had turned up because Ori was involved, was the first to break the silence.

“I think so,” muttered Kíli, his face down and his voice small. “I didn’t see anyone though. Fíli must have seen that person because he pushed me out of the way. I think the curse might have been aimed at me.”

“It’s not yer fault, laddie,” Dwalin squeezed Kíli’s arm and said firmly. “Whoever threw that curse was the one to blame. You did really well. You saved Fíli’s life.”

“Which would not have been in danger had he paid attention either in class or to his surroundings.” Thorin’s cold voice threw a dagger to Kíli’s heart and he could feel tears welling up in his eyes. The worst part was, Thorin was absolutely right. It was his fault. The curse was aimed at him! If Fíli had not tried to save him, it should have been him here. And why didn’t he read more about Herbology? He was sure Devil’s Snare was covered in  _ One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi _ . Someone like Fíli and Ori must know not only what it did, but also how to repel it. If he had worked harder, he could have rescued Fíli sooner.

“That’s not fair, Thorin!” Dwalin’s indignant voice interrupted Kíli’s self-loathing. “Kíli’s only a first-year and he hasn’t even learnt how to deal with Devil’s Snare yet. The fact that he kept his cool and tried all those spells is truly remarkable. He really did all he could.”

“Clearly, that wasn’t enough,” Thorin was not moved at all. “It was pure luck that he stumbled upon the Bluebell Flames Spell. Had luck not been on his side, Fíli would have died.”

“Thorin,” even Nori found this a little harsh, “be reasonable.”

“I am being perfectly reasonable. But I do agree that someone else is even more to blame,” Thorin’s voice turned even icier. “Professor Bilbo, perhaps you have spent too much time with your precious plants that you are turning into one yourself. Because otherwise, I cannot fathom what possessed you to leave two first-year students in a room full of lethal plants unattended.”

“Come on, lad,” Dwalin pulled Kíli’s arm around his neck so he could better support Kíli’s weight. “Let’s get yeh out of here so yeh can get some rest.”

“But,” Kíli looked from Fíli, who still remained resolutely cold, to Thorin, who looked so angry that his eyebrows were knitted together into a thick line, to Bilbo, who was spluttering helplessly with a bright red face.

“I’ll keep yeh updated on Fíli’s progress,” said Dwalin calmly as he started to half carry Kíli out of the Hospital Wing. “Don’t worry. He’ll make a full recovery. It will not do any good to get yeh sick too.”

Dwalin escorted Kíli all the way to his dormitory and tucked him in bed. Luckily, no one else was in the dormitory, for Kíli was a bit embarrassed to be coddled like this. If he was honest with himself, however, Kíli had to admit that he did enjoy Dwalin’s care and attention, after such a trying morning and Thorin’s cold treatment. He shook himself mentally. He did not want to think about that for now.

“Don’t listen to a word Thorin said.” Dwalin seemed to read Kíli’s mind and he looked Kíli straight in the eye. “I mean it. This is absolutely NOT yer fault. If anything, yeh are a hero for saving Fíli’s life. Thorin was being a real wanker, oops.” He looked slightly guilty while Kíli giggled in spite of himself. Dwalin beamed at him. “That’s the spirit, laddie. Don’t yeh worry. I will talk to Thorin about it this time. Instead of finding the real culprit who cast the bloody curse, he’s taking it out on yeh and poor Bilbo.” Dwalin sighed. “Please don’t take it personally. Thorin cares a great deal about those close to him. He’s just really angry and perhaps a bit scared. And let’s face it, Thorin’s about emotionally mature as a flobberworm. Get some sleep and forget about it. Don’t worry about missing classes today. I’ll inform Elrond and Bard.”

Kíli nodded, his eyes growing heavy. “And Fíli?” 

“As soon as I hear any news about Fíli, yeh’ll be the first one to know. I promise.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Seconds later, or so it seemed, Kíli was jolted awake from his restless sleep by a red-faced Gimli, “Fíli’s come around. Professor Dwalin’s asked me to tell you so you can…”

Before Gimli could finish his sentence, Kíli was out of the dormitory. He did not care if he was still a bit woozy from the nap, nor the fact that he had no shoes on. He needed to see Fíli.

“Ah, there you are,” boomed Oín when he saw Kíli crashing into the Hospital Wing in his socks. “Fíli’s been asking about you. Why don’t you go and see him? Don’t over-excite him. He’s still recovering and his voice isn’t working properly yet.”

“What? Why?”

“Why?” Oín snorted loudly, rattling his ear trumpet. “You try being choked for a good 10 minutes. That’d do your voicebox in. Even magic takes time to work.”

“Right,” Kíli said, feeling a bit stupid. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

The moment Fíli’s lying form entered his sight, Kíli felt his heart stop. Despite what Oín had told him, it still agitated and worried him to see Fíli lying there with his eyes closed. He tiptoed quietly to Fíli’s bed, not wishing to disrupt his friend’s sleep.

Fíli, of course, was always the alert one. His eyes snapped open when Kíli was at his bedside and the look on his face immediately turned into one of utter relief and joy.

“Oh, Fíli!” cried Kíli and he threw himself at Fíli, hugging his friend so tightly that Fíli grunted in pain. “Oh, my Gosh, I’m so sorry. Am I hurting you, Fíli? Are you okay? Do I need to call Mister Oín?”

Fíli shook his head with a smile. He patted on a spot on his bed wordlessly and Kíli sat down immediately, holding Fíli’s hand in his. “Don’t say anything yet. Your voice box needs rest. I’m absolutely fine. Nothing hurt me at all, well, except the scare you gave me. Oh, Fíli,” Kíli’s voice broke, “why did you push me out of the way and get yourself in danger? It should have been me! I’m so sorry!”

This time, Fíli did speak, albeit with great difficulty and a croaking voice. “It is NOT your fault. Someone cursed you.” He coughed violently and Kíli quickly fetched him a glass of water. “I did what I should have done! We’re best mates, aren’t we? I’m just glad you’re okay.”

The hug Kíli gave Fíli this time was much gentler, yet no less emotional. He did not know what he had done right in his past life to deserve such a wonderful friend like Fíli. Once he had disentangled himself from Fíli, however, he hesitated, debating if he should ask Fíli. Sensing his indecision, Fíli patted him gently on the hand, gesturing for him to continue.

“Did you see who threw that curse?” Kíli finally asked in a whisper. Fíli’s countenance changed immediately. Kíli had never seen him so angry before. In fact, this was the first time Kíli could see so clearly the resemblance between Fíli and Thorin. 

“I cannot be certain,” croaked Fíli, “I did not catch his face. All I got was a glimpse at the robe, and it was silver-green.”

“A Slytherin?” Kíli gasped and Fíli nodded grimly. “But… Who would do that? I mean… This is not some stupid prank!” Kíli cried. “You could have died. I could have died.” He simply could not comprehend the fact that someone, very likely a fellow first-year student, hated him enough to want to kill him. Who could it be? The answer came to him without any real effort. “Legolas…”

Even though Fíli looked less uncertain, Kíli was absolutely convinced. Who else could it be? Nobody else held a grudge against Kíli as Legolas did. Sure, some Slytherin Purebloods could barely contain their disdain when they saw him. But they mostly just ignored him as if he was nothing more than dirt underneath their feet. Even Bolg did not seem to hate him that much, although the possibility could not be entirely ruled out. And it was not the first time. The Elf’s stunts in Potions could have seriously hurt Kíli too. Kíli could now feel the rage building up inside him. “Right, I’m going to find that filthy disgusting excuse of a wizard and…”

But Fíli’s hand on his arm stopped him again. 

“Don’t…” Fíli swallowed hard before continuing. “We don’t know if it’s him. Besides, I’ve got no proof. You’ll only get in trouble.”

“But…”

“I don’t want to see you get hurt.” Fíli coughed again. The blond looked so concerned that Kíli sobered up immediately.

“Okay, okay, I won’t go after Legolas,” Kíli said placatingly, handing Fíli more water. “Please don’t worry yourself over me.”

“Promise?”

“Yes,” Kíli almost rolled his eyes in fondness, “I promise.” And Fíli finally looked convinced. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Oín insisted on keeping Fíli in the Hospital Wing for three days, even though Fíli was fully recovered after a day. This was driving Fíli absolutely mental, being cooped up in the Hospital Wing. What was worse, it was the weekend that Ravenclaw played Slytherin in the Quidditch Cup. Despite his enthusiasm for the sport, Kíli skipped the match to spend all his time in the Hospital Wing, keeping Fíli company and helping him catch up on homework.

When they were not working, their conversation inevitably veered to their anonymous attacker.

“So we’ve got two candidates with obvious motives,” said Fíli methodically, “Legolas and Bolg. I assume both could have the opportunity since either one of them could have doubled back to sneak upon us. As for method, that’s where I am a bit baffled. The jinx used was not first-year material.”

Kíli sat up a little straighter. He was so consumed with worries for Fíli and anger towards Legolas that he did not stop to consider the matter as thoroughly as Fíli just did. Now that he came to think about it, he did not remember a spell from their classes that would cause the legs to collapse. “Do you know what the spell is?”

“I believe it’s the Jelly-Legs Curse,” FIli said, “judging by what it did and the orange light. It is a proper curse, not just some jinx we’ve learnt in class. I only read about it in one of the books in our Library.”

“So,” Kíli said slowly, “are you saying that whoever cursed you may not be a first-year?”

Fíli scratched his head and sighed, “I don’t know. I mean, we don’t exactly know any older students who want to curse us, do we?”

That was completely true, of course. Where then did their attacker learn the spell?

“I still think it could be Legolas. I mean, he is the second-best in our class and he comes from a Pureblood family. Maybe he’s taking some extra lessons with his dad too? 

“True.” Fíli looked thoughtful. “Although this does not necessarily rule Bolg out either. His father is a very powerful wizard as well.”

“Oh, come off it,” Kíli said with a laugh. “Bolg? He’s rubbish at magic. He’s even worse than I am at Transfiguration and Potions and that’s saying something.

“You never know,” Fíli said sagely. “If the rumours are true about Bolg’s Orc blood, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s good at curses and jinxes even though his grades are abysmal. Orcs are said to have a strong affinity to anything dark.”

This was something Kíli had never considered but he trusted Fíli’s words. “So basically we can’t rule either of them out?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

Kíli sighed. He hated this level of ambiguity. “Damn. I wish I could Sense magic of more than just objects!”

Fíli’s eyes widened. “What in the name of Mahal do you mean?”

“Oh,” Kíli now looked slightly embarrassed. He had just realised that he had not told Fíli about his special talent, mostly because he had pretty much forgotten about it himself. Despite his initial excitement at Ollivander's, Kíli soon lost interest because he could not Sense magic from living beings. “I’ve been told that I have the Sense.”

“You’re joking!” Fíli sat up so quickly that he had to steady himself so he did not fall off the bed. “Are you sure?”

“Mister Ollivander told me,” Kíli shrugged, trying to downplay the importance of it all. “I felt the magic of the wands there. Then the Sorting Hat confirmed it so I suppose yeah.”

“That’s amazing!” Fíli cried. “It’s one of the best skills to have and it’s so rare. What can you Sense now?”

“Nothing much really,” Kíli said. “I can’t really Sense magic from living things, not even those magical creatures Professor Dáin kept, although I doubt my Sense is needed there. One look at them tells you enough.”

“This is so cool!” Fíli seemed way more excited about this than Kíli, whose mind was still on Legolas.

“Anyway, back to the attacker. I still think Legolas is the more likely candidate. He absolutely hates my guts after his humiliating detention. He might have learnt the spell from a library book. Maybe he borrowed a textbook from an older student. This is taught later, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Fíli nodded. “I believe it’s something we learn in our third year. You can find it in  _ Curses and Counter Curses _ too. But still, that means that Legolas must be good enough to master the spell. And I can assure you that the curse was not a poor effort. I felt its force and it practically knocked me over. Elves, unlike Orcs, are creatures of light. They are!” He said firmly at the incredulous look on Kíli’s face. “Legolas is not every Elf. He’s more of an anomaly if you ask me. But generally speaking, Elves are not great with curses and jinxes.”

Kíli, of course, had no answer to that. He racked his brain hard, trying to come up with some alternative explanations.

“Wait,” cried Kíli excitedly as an idea struck him suddenly. “What if Legolas asked some older student to attack us? I mean, that student will know more magic and we won’t suspect them, which makes us easier targets!”

“That is a possibility,” Fíli said slowly, frowning now as he thought hard. “I don’t know how Legolas convinced them but maybe he bribed the other student? Slytherins are known for their cunning and resourcefulness after all.”

“We must be careful then!” cried Kíli, “We can’t let our guard down around any Slytherins, especially anyone with Elf blood or Orc blood. Maybe they were doing this because they both hate Dwarves.”

“That is a good point,” Fíli nodded. “If this is the case, we need to up our games too. I think we should go to Professor Dwalin and start our duelling lessons as soon as possible.”

“Brilliant!” Kíli nearly fell off the bed himself in excitement. “I can’t wait to start! But,” he gave Fíli a concerned look, “are you feeling up to it? Maybe we should take it easy and let you recover a bit more.”

“No,” Fíli shook his head so violently that Kíli feared he might break his neck. “If I spend any more time recovering, I might die from boredom. Let’s do this. We’ll go find Professor Dwalin the moment Mister Oín stops holding me hostage.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To Fíli’s great relief, Oín finally agreed to set him free after dinner on Sunday, after Fíli promised, with a straight face, not to do anything more strenuous than eating and breathing. Once Oín had returned to his office, however, Fíli gathered his books and left the Hospital Wing at top speed.

“Professor Dwalin should be back in his office by now.” Fíli checked his watch, which read half-past seven. “He doesn’t linger at dinner. Come on, this way.”

They arrived at Dwalin’s office and Fíli raised his arm to knock on the door, only to be stopped by the loud argument coming from inside the room.

“... way too harsh on the lad.” Dwalin’s loud voice was hard to mistake. “He has done nothing to deserve this. If anything, yeh should be kind to him, for he’s a good lad and a brilliant wizard.”

“Hmpf.” The dismissive snort was equally recognisable, to Kíli at least, for he had been at the receiving end of Thorin’s derision for too many times not to recognise it even in his dreams, “Brilliant wizard my arse! Do you know how many cauldrons he has blown up in my class? Not to mention his pathetic attempts at creating, well, I won’t even deign to call it potions.”

Somehow, Kíli had a fairly good idea who Thorin was talking about and he could feel his limbs go cold. Next to him, Fíli seemed to sense his thought as he grabbed Kíli’s hand to give him an encouraging squeeze.

“That’s only because yeh terrorise the living daylight out of him,” Dwalin snapped. “If yeh can just stop being so bloody biased, maybe he will show his true potential. He’s doing extremely well in my class.”

Thorin snorted again. “If he can’t handle a little pressure…”

“He’s only eleven years old!” Dwalin sounded like he was on the brink of a stroke or explosion. “He’s just a poor kid who grew up with no parents. What he needs is a father figure, someone kind enough to guide him, not some prejudiced idiot who’s determined to ruin him!”

“Watch your tongue, Dwalin!” Thorin roared and Kíli almost took a step back in fright. “You forget who you’re speaking to! How dare you accuse me of being prejudiced?”

“I thought I was speaking to a friend, Your Majesty,” Dwalin said sarcastically.

“Stop calling me that!”

“Then stop acting like a royal arse! Yeh know yeh’re not being fair to the lad. Why is it so hard to admit? Is it because of Frerin?”

“Enough!” Kíli had never heard so much danger in Thorin’s voice before. “We’re not discussing this any further. I am being perfectly just in my treatment of Kíli Durin. He’s impulsive, weak, and lazy, no son of his father!”

Kíli felt as if his world had just collapsed. He knew Professor Thorin did not like him. Yet he had never thought that the Potions Master really thought so little of him. Before he could wallow in self-pity, however, he was startled by the sudden movement next to him.

Fíli had rushed forward and banged the door open. Both Dwalin and Thorin jumped at the loud noise and the sudden intrusion. Kíli hesitated for a moment before following Fíli into the office. Frankly, he did not know what to do. He could not just run away, however, leaving Fíli there by himself.

Judging by the sheepish and apologetic look on Dwalin’s face when he saw Kíli, Kíli knew that their eavesdropping did not go unnoticed. Thorin, on the other hand, did not look embarrassed or sorry at all. If anything, he merely looked annoyed.

“Do tell, Fíli,” Thorin’s voice was stern, “what matters of great importance warrants such behaviour? I thought we have taught you better manners.”

Shaking so violently with anger, Fíli looked as if he could not get a word out. Once he did, however, it was explosive. “How dare you stand here, lecturing me on manners, when you’ve just shown that you have none whatsoever?! How can you talk about Kíli like that? He’s my best friend and I know him enough to know that he’s nothing of what you’ve described! The Kíli I know is brave, loyal, and bright! He’s the one who’s willing to die for me as I am for him! You’re blinded by your prejudice and have acted most unfairly towards Kíli. I’ve tried to find excuses for you but I can’t anymore, uncle! There’s no excuse because you’re simply wrong! I don’t know what possessed you to hate Kíli so much nor do I care! All I know is that I won’t stand by to see my best friend being bullied and abused, even though the perpetrator is my own uncle.”

Nobody spoke for a moment. Kíli was so stunned by Fíli’s outburst and so moved by his friend’s loyalty and trust that he felt as if his heart would explode with emotion. Dwalin seemed equally surprised and proud, as he beamed at Fíli. Thorin, on the other hand, was clearly not amused.

“Fíli Arken.” Thorin took a step closer so he was now face-to-face with Fíli. While he looked perfectly calm without a single hair out of place, Kíli actually shuddered at the danger in Thorin’s low voice that he almost took a step back. Remembering what Fíli just did for him, however, he braced himself and walked up to stand next to Fíli, holding his best friend’s hand to show his support. Fíli did not look intimidated at all. If anything, he looked even angrier and more defiant.

“You will NEVER speak to me like this, EVER again!” Thorin’s roaring voice made them all jump. “How dare you! I am your uncle and you will obey my words! I do not expect you to understand everything I do. You are too young. But your display of insolence is never to be tolerated! I will write to your mother about it. She will surely be extremely disappointed in you, as I am now.”

“What is so hard, uncle?” Fíli stood his ground and replied sarcastically. “Admitting you’ve made a mistake won’t kill you, you know? But no, the great Thorin Oakenshield is never wrong. No matter what happens, no matter how many people have died, Thorin Oakenshield is always right! The King under the Mountain! You had no mountain before Erebor and you are never King! It was my father and many others who died that gave you back your mountain. They might have lived had you not been so stubborn and arrogant!”

“Fíli!” Dwalin gasped. “Bloody hell! What was that coming from? You know it’s not Thorin’s fault that Vilir died.”

If Kíli thought Thorin was angry before, he was dead wrong. The look on Thorin’s face was thunderous and for once, Fíli looked ashamed of his harsh accusation. When Thorin finally did speak, his voice was dangerously low but clear. “If you have any questions about what happened to your father, I will explain everything, again, to you. I may have made some wrong decisions during the war. Nevertheless, never, ever, accuse me of intentionally endangering my people.”

“I didn’t mean…,” Fíli muttered but Thorin cut him off, “No more. You’ve said enough today, Fíli. Detentions with Mister Lickspittle. You are to report to him every Saturday night for a month. Any questions?”

Fíli shook his head and remained silent. Kíli felt like he needed to say something to defend his friend but when he caught Dwalin’s eyes, the older dwarf shook his head almost imperceptibly. 

“Good,” Thorin said with grim satisfaction. “You’re both dismissed. I don’t want to see you out of bed again or you are booked for the rest of the school year. Go!” 

The moment they were out of Dwalin’s office, Kíli threw caution to the wind and pulled Fíli into a tight embrace. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered to Fíli’s ears, “but thank you! You’re the best friend I could ever ask for.”

Fíli smiled for the first time since they were out of the Hospital Wing, “Of course, I’d do that for you. We’re best mates. I mean what I said. I’ll never let anyone hurt you, not even uncle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how one's face changes colour as one's being strangled and I don't want to research too much into it lol. But I hope the action scene sounds otherwise plausible.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Detention, duelling classes, and, of course, the Blast-Ended Skrewts :)

Detentions are never fun. Every Hogwarts student agrees with that. What is even more commonly accepted is that detentions with Alfrid the Caretaker are even worse.

Alfrid was a Squib, someone born in a magical family but had no magical abilities. It was a rather rare occurrence in the Magical world, even though their number had been on the rise in recent years, according to Dwalin. Most of the Squibs, particularly those of Men, would choose to live as a Muggle since they had no magical abilities. Others chose to remain in the magical world, often living a bitter and resentful life. Unfortunately, Alfrid was one of the latter. Kíli never understood why he would choose Hogwarts, a place filled with students learning magic, to apply for a job. Every single one of the students was living proof of his own failure. Or at least in Alfrid, that was what it came down to. He hated the students with a real passion but was too cowardly and sycophantic to display it openly. In fact, Kíli had seen him fawning over some Pureblood students in a rather sickening manner. If a student was handed detention with him, however, Alfrid would never waste the chance to make the most out of it for his sick pleasure, tormenting the students as much as he could.

Fíli’s detentions were to take place on Saturday mornings. Kíli secretly thought that Alfrid picked that time on purpose so Fíli would miss the Gryffindor Quidditch match against Hufflepuff. The breakfast before Fíli’s first detention was tense, for nobody knew what Alfrid had in store for him.

“Cheer up,” Lindir said encouragingly, “I doubt Alfrid will make you do anything too bad.”

“Didn’t he ask you to clean all the chamber pots without magic in your second year?” asked Elladan, who had joined the Ravenclaw table solely to annoy his sister Arwen, and Fíli’s face turned paperwhite. 

“Well, yeah.” Lindir waved a hand casually before stuffing another giant sausage into his mouth. Kíli had to admire his courage. He knew he would not be able to shrug off such a horrendous experience so easily. “But to be fair, I did charm all his clothes off at dinner on Valentine’s Day. I suppose he was a bit annoyed.” The rest of the table sniggered and Kíli stared at Lindir. Now he was leaning towards the opinion that Lindir was not really brave. He was just clueless or probably mental. “But it’s not going to happen to you, Fíli. Alfrid wouldn’t dare. You are Thorin’s nephew after all.”

Once breakfast was over, Kíli walked Fíli to Alfrid’s office. He felt so guilty about Fíli’s detention that he even volunteered to do it with his friend.

“Don’t be absurd.” Fíli’s said in a would-be casual tone yet the smile he put on his face, probably for Kíli’s sake, did not reach his eyes. “I’m sure it can’t be that bad. Besides, it won’t make sense to get you into detention too. Neither uncle nor Alfrid will shorten my detention because of that.”

Kíli sighed. He knew, of course, that Fíli was right. Still, leaving Fíli there by himself with Alfrid because he stood up for Kíli did not make Kíli feel comfortable at all. “I’ll wait for you.”

“Oh, Kíli,” this time Fíli did smile, “I really appreciate it but I have no idea how long the detention will take. I don’t want you hanging outside Alfrid’s office while you could be out there having fun.”

“I’ll wait for you in the library then,” said Kíli in a final tone that brooked no argument. “I want to know how the detention goes. And I’m not going to have any fun while you’re in detention so I might as well get some work done.”

It took Fíli more than 4 hours to come back. When he turned up in the library, Fíli looked absolutely drained.

“How did it go? Are you okay? Do you want something to eat? Shall we go to the Great Hall now? Do you need me to hold you?” Kíli could hardly contain his anxiety as he rushed towards Fíli, checking his friends up and down to make sure he was still whole and intact.

“Relax, Kíli,” Fíli chuckled weakly, “I’m fine, just knackered. Alfrid made me clean the castle without magic, starting with the dungeons.”

“But the castle is huge,” Kíli could not believe his ears. “It’s going to take you forever.”

“Well, luckily uncle told him that my detention can’t go beyond 4 hours. So Alfrid didn’t assign me too many rooms.”

“Right,” Kíli said resolutely, “I’m helping you out next time! I’ve had plenty of experience cleaning in the orphanage. If we get done earlier, we can maybe play some Wizard’s Chess together, or,” he added swiftly at the scandalised look on Fíli’s face, “study together. That will be a productive use of our time, won’t it?”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Unfortunately, the next Saturday morning was the match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. This has always been one of the friendlier matches in the series, for Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs get along very well. Of course, there was still a healthy dose of rivalry. But none of the students resorted to underhand tricks or sabotages. If Kíli did bicker with Bain Dale and Thorin Stonehelm-Ironfoot in Herbology, it was all quite benign.

“The Gryffindor Seeker is just rubbish,” Thorin Stonehelm-Ironfoot said boorishly. He was a particularly stout Dwarf, which Kíli suspected had something to do with the fact that he was Dáin’s son. After all, growing up with all those crazy beasts must have toughened him up. Nevertheless, Kíli liked this other Thorin. He was nice and always up for a good laugh. “Whatever his name is. I honestly have no idea why Gryffindor picked him. I mean he can’t catch his own breath in a match let alone the snitch.”

Kíli scowled while Bain laughed. “Quite right. Hamson Gamgee is an awful flyer. Even my dad says so and you know he never speaks ill of anybody, well, maybe except Alfrid. But anyway, I heard that there was a minor incident of doxy droppings overdose before the Gryffindor Seeker tryouts this year so only a handful of people turned up. Apparently, Hamson is the best out of a sorry bunch.”

If anyone in their class knew about Quidditch and flying, it was Bain. Not only was he a gifted flyer, but being Professor Bard’s son also meant that he grew up with Quidditch. But still, Seeker was not the only player on a Quidditch team. “The Gryffindor Chasers are amazing. Haven’t you seen our last match against Slytherin?”

“Yeah, but the Slytherin Keeper is about as useful as a scarecrow standing guarding in front of an Erebor vault filled with gold,” Thorin Stonehelm-Ironfoot said dismissively. “Haldir Galadhon, on the other hand, will not let a goal in so easily.”

To Kíli’s dismay, Thorin was right again. Kíli had seen Haldir Galadhon, a fifth-year Hufflepuff Prefect, play during one of their practices and he was extremely talented. Being Elf meant that he had got long arms and legs that could block very effectively, which combined with his graceful flying, made him an excellent Keeper. Kíli was never one to easily concede, however. “I think we stand a good chance. Our Chasers will test your Keeper properly and we may even get a win.”

Thorin Stonehelm-Ironfoot laughed so hard that Bilbo had to intervene. “Now, now, boys, a little less talking and a little more focus on the class. Don’t make me take off points from my own House, Mr Stonehelm-Ironfoot.” He gave Bain an equally stern look but smiled at Kíli instead. Kíli knew that the poor Head of Hufflepuff was still feeling guilty about the incident in the Green House earlier and was thus particularly lenient on Kíli and Fíli. He honestly did not blame Bilbo in the slightest. Their attacker would have found another opportunity anyway. Besides, Kíli personally believed that Bilbo had suffered enough under Thorin’s notorious temper.

Normally, Kíli would be extremely excited for a Quidditch match, particularly a Gryffindor one. Yet this one did not hold nearly the same anticipation for him as the other ones. He was not going to watch it anyway because Fíli would be in detention. 

“Don’t be silly, Kíli,” Fíli said firmly. “You can’t miss your own House’s Quidditch match because I am in detention. Go and watch the game. I’ll be fine.”

“No,” Kíli shook his head resolutely, “I promised that I’ll help you and I will. There will be more Quidditch matches to watch but you are my best mate. I can’t let you do all the work yourself when I can help. I mean it.” He raised his voice when Fíli showed every sign to argue. “Even if I go, I won’t be able to enjoy it because I’ll feel so guilty about it. So I might as well help you.”

Fíli beamed at him and said softly. “Thank you, Kíli. That means a lot to me.” And Kíli felt that he could miss all the Quidditch matches in the world in a heartbeat.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Saturday came, Kíli bid the other Gryffindors goodbye and wished the team good luck before joining Fíli in his walk to Alfrid’s office. Once Fíli was inside, Kíli hid in a deserted classroom nearby and waited patiently. Sure enough, Fíli came to find him ten minutes later.

“Alfrid wanted me to continue cleaning the dungeon this week,” Fíli frowned. “I was hoping that he would assign me somewhere like the Astronomy Tower where we can catch a glimpse of the Quidditch pitch.”

“It’s fine,” said Kíli with a cheeriness he did not feel. “I’m sure we can get it done in half the time and sneak out to see the match.”

Thanks to Kíli’s time in the orphanage, he was much more adept at using brooms and mops than Fíli. It was extremely dull work, however, cleaning classroom after classroom without any magic. Still, they ploughed on, talking occasionally to cheer each other up.

“Who do you think is leading?” Kíli asked after an hour into the detention, his mind wandering into the Quidditch pitch and the Gryffindor team.

“I think Gryffindor must be,” Fíli said thoughtfully, “unless the Snitch has been caught already. But I haven’t heard any loud movements in the castle so the match is probably not over.”

This thought cheered Kíli up. Perhaps Gryffindor could pull this off. Sensing his thoughts, Fíli said gently, “I won’t get my hopes up too high though. Hufflepuff is a decent team. I’ve seen Galion Mirkwood play last year and he caught the snitch right under Feren Woodland’s nose. They practically slaughtered Slytherin, without conceding a single goal.”

“Brilliant,” said Kíli, his heart sinking. “Now I’m really depressed.”

“No,” Fíli paused mid-sweeping and said quickly, “don’t be upset. All Gryffindor needs is a decent Seeker. In fact, I think you should try out for the Gryffindor Seeker next year.”

Kíli almost dropped his mop. While he had dreamt about trying for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, it was more a fantasy than a serious aspiration, at least not next year. “Are you serious? Me? A Seeker?”

“Why not?” Fíli dropped his broom too, looking very excited now. “You’re a great flyer. Gryffindor desperately needs a Seeker. Why not?”

“But I’ll only be a second-year. Surely there are others better than me… All those students older than me? Besides, I never thought I’d try for Seeker. Isn’t that usually a Hobbit’s position?”

“It never hurts to try, does it?” said Fíli seriously. “How will you know if you are good enough without even trying? I mean, Professor Bard said you’re gifted the other day in our Flying lesson, didn’t he? And you know he knows his Quidditch. As for the position, you’re the perfect build for a Seeker. You’re lithe and quick, but also strong enough to withstand the intensity of the matches. I honestly can’t see why you don’t try out.”

Maybe Fíli did have a point. Stereotypes aside, based on what Kíli had learnt about Quidditch, he was the rare ideal build for a Seeker. For the first time, Kíli felt proud of his parentage. He was different. But that just meant that he was unique, with advantages over others because of who he was. “Right, I think I will try out for Seeker then.” He turned to look at Fíli. “Are you going to try out for the Ravenclaw team? You’re certainly good enough a flyer to be on a Quidditch team.”

“You know what,” Fíli said thoughtfully, “I might. One of our Beaters is in his 7th year so we definitely need a replacement next year.”

“Perfect!” Kíli clapped his hands together enthusiastically. “We may both be on a Quidditch team next year! How cool will that be?”

With this happy prospect, the rest of the detention seemed far less gruelling. By the time they reached the last classroom assigned for Fíli that day, one of the Advanced Potions classrooms, a good two hours had already passed. The castle was still unusually quiet, however.

When they pushed the door open, they heard a loud crashing noise that made both of them jump. Exchanging a quick look, both of them held out their wand and walked in slowly.

The room seemed deserted. The only form of life, past or present, were the jars of preserved potion ingredients taken from various animals. Kíli shuddered. The whole place felt eerie and somewhat sinister. “Anyone there?” Kíli called out in a slightly shaky voice but no one answered back.

“Let’s just go inside,” said Fíli in a whisper. “I think the sound came from the back storage room.”

They tried to keep their footsteps as quiet as possible, which proved to be difficult for Fíli because he was a Dwarf and naturally heavy. Kíli was sure that whoever was in the storage room must have heard them.

Once they had entered the storage room, the only living thing there was…

“Mister Lock?”

Sure enough, Alfrid’s cat was covered in unicorn blood that his usually dark hair was now sticky silver. When his big yellow eyes set on Fíli and Kíli, Kíli could swear that he saw both contempt and annoyance in them.

“What are we going to do?” Kíli hissed. “This stupid cat has just made a mess. Professor Thorin will blow his top once he finds out that his precious unicorn blood is gone. They are really hard to come by, aren’t they?”

Before Fíli could answer, however, the door of the storage room was pushed open. Whipping around, Fíli and Kíli found themselves face-to-face with one of their least favourite persons.

“Bolg,” snapped Kíli. He really had no patience for the Slytherin. Even though he hated Legolas more, it did not make it any easier to endure the presence of the unpleasant possible Half-Orc.

“Kíli Durin,” Bolg sneered, “I see that you’re still out and about. What a pity. I thought you’d be more careful now. Surely you don’t want to get into another,” he looked meaningfully from Kíli to Fíli before saying slowly, “accident.”

That was the official version of the cause of Fíli’s injury. Nobody except the teachers, Kíli, Ori and Gimli knew the truth. All the students were simply told that Fíli had an accident in the Green House 3 and had to miss class, which did not raise any eyebrows since that was where dangerous plants were housed. Lindir even came to congratulate Fíli because he had, according to Lindir, accomplished an important milestone in his journey to becoming a real Hogwarts student. Still, the cavalier way that Bolg mentioned the incident made Kíli’s blood boil. Before he could do anything, however, Fíli intervened.

“What are you doing here?” Fíli asked coolly, his eyes narrowed in disgust and suspicion. “Aren’t you supposed to be out there watching Quidditch?”

“What? To see which team is more pathetic?” laughed Bolg cruelly. “No, thank you. I have much better things to do. I’m here to find Mister Lock.”

“Mister Lock?”

“Yeah, you know, Alfrid’s cat,” Bolg rolled his eyes, “the one right in front of you? Or have you finally lost your mind after your accident, Fíli Arken?”

“Shut up, Bolg!” snapped Kíli, his hand gripping tightly on his wand, ready to strike at any moment. “What on earth do you want with Mister Lock anyway?”

“That,” drawled Bolg, “is none of your business.” With that, he crouched down and beckoned Mister Lock forward. To Kíli and Fíli’s astonishment, the cat immediately rushed towards Bolg, jumping into his arms without any hesitation. It was still disconcerted to see Mister Lock warm up to anyone but Alfrid. Anyone else that tried to so much as stroke Mister Lock was only rewarded with bloody scratch marks.

“Well, now that I have got what I came here for, I’ll see you later.” Bolg said with a smirk and left with Mister Lock nestled securely in his arms. 

Fíli and Kíli looked at each other. Neither knew how to make of this strange interaction with Bolg. To be perfectly honest, Kíli was expecting to be attacked. Was Bolg holding back because there were two of them and only one of him and he knew that he was rubbish at magic without Legolas? Why was Bolg not at the Quidditch match but here looking for Mister Lock? And since when did Bolg and Mister Lock become this close?

“How did Bolg even know Mister Lock was here?” asked Fíli. “I mean, Mister Lock is still Alfrid’s cat, for Mahal’s sake. I know they’ve become closer but this is just downright creepy. Why does he pick Bolg out of all people in the first place?”

“Would you rather he pick you?” Kíli sniggered. Fíli gave him a reproachful look. “Of course not. But seriously, this is weird.”

“I know,” agreed Kíli, sounding more serious. “But there’s nothing we can do about it though, is there? Bolg didn’t do anything wrong. Maybe we just need to watch our back more, now that he’s got Mister Lock on his side too.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once Fíli’s detentions were over, life had returned to normal for the two friends. Or as normal as it could be Hogwarts. Gryffindor lost to Hufflepuff after Galion Mirkwood caught the Snitch from right under Hamson’s nose when he chose the most inopportune moment to sneeze. This, together with the fact that Ravenclaw won 120 points over Slytherin and 100 points over Hufflepuff in their first match, meant that Gryffindor’s chance of winning the Quidditch Cup was close to zero.

“Well, we always knew our Seeker is rubbish,” Gimli said unhappily in the Gryffindor Common Room one day. “It’s not like we’re surprised.”

“Don’t say that, Gimli,” Aragorn chastised him gently. “Hamson really did try his best. We’re a team so we win as a team and lose as a team. It’s unfair to blame only Hamson. It’s not his fault to wake up with a head cold. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I’m the Captain and I should take responsibilities for our losses.”

“I’m not blaming him,” muttered Gimli, “I’m simply stating a fact. We need a better Seeker next year to stand a chance at winning the Quidditch Cup. Thorin Stonehelm-Ironfoot had been insufferable and I’ve really had enough. Thank Mahal we won against Slytherin. I don’t think I can stand the jeers and taunts from the Slytherins.”

“We are going to have a new Seeker next year,” said Tauriel, relief evident in her voice. “Hamson has told us that he’s not playing next year, thank Merlin.”

“Tauriel,” Aragorn frowned, “there’s really no need for that. But yes, Hamson did agree to step down, unless we absolutely can’t find anybody else. He wants us to win as much as anyone. So let’s show him some support and who knows, we may get lucky with Ravenclaw.”

That chance was, of course, extremely slim. Luckily for Kíli, he had other things to occupy his time. Now that their Saturday mornings were no longer spent mopping the castle floor, Fíli had decided to resume his duelling lesson with Dwalin and asked Kíli to come along.

“It’s going to be okay,” Fíli assured Kíli for what felt like the hundredth time. “You know Professor Dwalin. He really likes you. You’re better at Defence Against Dark Arts than I am. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“But I have no duelling experience,” insisted Kíli. “I will have no clue what to do.”

“And Professor Dwalin knows that,” Fíli said patiently. “He will guide you through it. You know what he’s like. He will push you to your limit but he’s also very considerate. Just think about all the spells you’re going to learn.”

This did get Kíli very excited. Defence Against the Dark Arts was his favourite subject for a good reason. Taking a deep breath, he followed Fíli to Dwalin’s office.

“Come in, lads.” Dwalin’s wide smile and booming voice welcomed them into his office. While Dwalin’s office could never be called cluttered, it was almost stripped bare now. The walnut shelves that lined Dwalin’s office wall had disappeared. So did the mahogany desk and the sofas. The only things left were a couple of chairs with several plush cushions. Dwalin caught Kíli’s eyes and laughed, “I’ve made some rearrangements of me furniture. Don’t want yeh knocking things over with yer spells or yerself.”

“Right.” Once Fíli and Kíli were settled with their wand out and ready, Dwalin started their first duelling lesson. “We’ll start with disarming spells today. It’s a useful little spell that should be part of yer arsenal. The spell is  _ Expelliarmus _ .”

For the rest of the class, Dwalin explained patiently the magical theory behind Expelliarmus and the wand movement. To Kíli’s great relief, this turned out not too different from his Defence Against the Dark Arts classes. He was able to understand the theory behind the spell and the wand movement was no problem either. Focusing his magic was always the harder bit but he still managed the spell after five tries, while Fíli’s spell was still a bit haphazard.

“Well done, Kíli!” Dwalin beamed at him and patted him heavily on the shoulder. “This is really good work. Yer aim is excellent. Now, try to exert more force into the spell. If done properly, it can not only disarm yer opponent but also physically hurt them with the force of the spell.”

Once Fíli had mastered the spell, they paired up to duel. This was the part Kíli was dreading and his concerns were not unfounded. Despite his slight advantage in spell-casting, Kíli soon found himself struggling because Fíli was faster and more adept at both casting and dodging his spells. More than once, Fíli had managed to narrowly dodge Kíli’s spell while casting his own almost immediately, catching Kíli completely off-guard.

“Watch yer opponent,” barked Dwalin. “Everybody telegraphs their moves. Look for the giveaways. Look for space and weaknesses. Aim for that.”

Finally, Kíli managed to duck just in time when Fíli’s spell zoomed towards him. With him crouching down, he could see Fíli’s front was wide open and he went for it, casting a spell so powerful that he sent Fíli off his feet and flying into the wall.

“I’m so sorry!” Kíli cried as he lowered his wand immediately to rush towards Fíli, “Are you okay?”

“He’s fine, lad,” said Dwalin. “I put a cushioning charm on the wall so yeh won’t hurt yerself when yeh crash. I don’t want Oín chasing me with his ear trumpet. But yeh should not let yer guard down so easily. In a real fight, yer opponent could be down only temporarily or they might be faking it. If yeh stop attacking, they may fight back, which can very well cost yer life. Constant vigilance!”

After a good two hours of training, Kíli was hurting everywhere that he practically limped out of Dwalin’s office. The physical pain was nothing compared to his mental happiness, however. He had learnt so much about duelling, which to Kíli’s surprise was not just about magic.

“I told you you’ll do great,” Fíli beamed. “You’re so good at this that you’ll soon be better than I am. You’re coming to the next class, aren’t you?”

“Of course, I am!” Kíli could hardly contain his excitement. “I won’t miss it for the world. It’s the best class I’ve ever been in and I just can’t wait for next Saturday.”

So he did. For the rest of the term, Kíli spent all his Saturday mornings with Fíli in Dwalin’s office. Even as their exams loomed nearer and their course workload avalanched with extra revision, Kíli made sure that he set that morning aside for duelling only.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Their Easter holiday was nowhere near as fun as Christmas. It could barely be called a holiday for there was so much revision to do. Fíli and Kíli found themselves stuck in the library one fine Sunday afternoon, working furiously over their notes in Transfiguration, when Ori and Gimli stumbled in, looking distinctly dishevelled.

“Blimey, what on earth happened to you?” Kíli asked in astonishment as both literally crashed on the bench and collapsed. “You look like you’ve been to the Black Lake to wrestle the giant squid!”

“It’s much, much worse,” Gimli said weakly. His hair was singed and his face covered in soot. Although it was difficult to tell under the dark soot, Kíli thought he saw Gimli had half an eyebrow missing. “We were down at Professor Dáin’s with his Blast-Ended Skrewts.”

Both Kíli and Fíli blinked. Fíli looked seriously concerned as he turned to Ori and asked tentatively, “Professor Dáin’s what, I’m sorry?”

“Blast-Ended Skrewts!” Ori wailed, who was only slightly less burnt and almost in tears.

Kíli was more confused than ever. “What the hell is a Blast-Ended Skrewts? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“Of course, you haven’t,” Ori was so close to hyperventilating that Fíli had to rub soothing circles on his back to calm him down, “because Professor Dáin has just created it himself!”

Now that did sound like Dáin. It seemed that their Care of Magical Creatures professor’s lifelong goal was to infest the world with as many dangerous beasts as he could. Why anyone would pick that as an ambition was utterly beyond Kíli. Yet Dáin had persevered for so long, despite many incidents and angry letters from the school board. Now he had managed another dangerous animal. “What exactly does it do?”

“Nothing!” Gimli threw his hands up in the air before thumping his head into the desk, alarming both Fíli and Kíli. “Apart from blasting fiery sparks at anyone and anything within sight! They’ve also got giant stings arching over their backs. Can you believe it? I mean, I like magical creatures as much as the next person but a ten-feet-tall giant fiery stinging monster with hard shells that deflect most of the spells? They’re walking nightmares! Dáin can’t even control them. They’re just running free.”

“How in the name of Mahal did Professor Dáin breed something like that?” Fíli looked positively flabbergasted at this point and Kíli could hardly blame him. He himself was having a hard time imagining those monsters roaming around Hogwarts ground.

“Apparently he managed to cross-breed a Firecrab with a Manticore,” answered Ori listlessly. While he had finally calmed down, he seemed to have given up hope already. “Don’t ask me how that happened. I really don’t ever want to know.”

“Does anyone else know about these, er, Blast-Ended Skrewts?” Perhaps a teacher could help them with the situation. Surely nobody in their right mind would want such creatures in a school!

“Nope,” Gimli said, “I think Thorin Stonehelm-Ironfoot probably knows. But he’s not going to tell anyone that his dad has broken the law, again, is he?”

“Should we tell someone?” Kíli asked tentatively. Unlike the others, he did not know Dáin well and felt little guilt in reporting him. Ori, however, shook his head. “I’m not reporting him. This isn’t the first time Professor Dáin has done something like that and he has never been punished before. I don’t see how it’s going to be different this time. I don’t want to be the snitch anyway. Professor Dáin’s nice, despite his questionable taste in the pastime. He never wants to hurt anyone.”

Gimli looked uncomfortable too. “Mate, I don’t know. I mean, Professor Dáin is good with magical creatures, which is why they gave him the job. Maybe he can contain these bloody Skrewts. It just doesn’t seem right to report him. Besides, if we report him, they’ll just kill the Skrewts, which is really unfair because the Skrewts didn’t ask to be born.”

“But we’ve got to do something! You said that the Skrewts are loose in the ground,” cried Kíli in exasperation. “It’s dangerous and it sounds like Professor Dáin has lost control this time. We can’t let people get hurt! They didn’t ask for the Skrewts either.”

“We did manage to catch them in the end,” muttered Gimli. “That’s why we’ve got all these burns. They’re now locked up in Professor Dáin’s back garden.”

When Kíli opened his mouth to argue more, Fíli held up his hand. “I think we should wait and see at this point. If Professor Dáin can contain them, we keep quiet. If, however, the Skrewts show any sign of losing control and endangering the students, we report Professor Dáin immediately.”

Both Gimli and Ori nodded without another word. It was clear that Fíli’s words carried quite some weight, possibly due to his position as Thorin’s heir. Kíli, on the other hand, did not feel convinced. Once Gimli and Ori had left the library to go back to their Common Rooms, he piped up. “Why are you covering this up for Professor Dáin? How do we even know if Professor Dáin is in control of the Skrewts? What if someone’s hurt before we report him? Isn’t this our fault then?”

Fíli sighed. He looked conflicted, way older than his age. “I understand your concern, Kíli. Trust me, I do. And I share them too. I don’t know if I can live with myself if someone does get hurt because we choose not to report Professor Dáin. But again, like Gimli said, Professor Dáin is usually good with magical creatures. Accidents happen all the time in Hogwarts. As long as it’s not life-threatening, Mister Oín can fix it without too much trouble.”

“Not life-threatening,” Kíli said incredulously. “Is that what we’re going to settle for? As long as someone is going to recover, everything is fine? Forget about the pain he has to go through. He will be fine in the end anyway. Why, Fíli? You’re better than that, surely!”

Now Fíli looked both sheepish and exasperated. “Look Kíli, you didn’t grow up as a Dwarf so you don’t understand. But Dwarves don’t snitch on each other. We’re a very close group and we protect our kins as it’s our topmost priority. To inform on a fellow Dwarf is an act of cowardice and utmost disrespect. It can only be done in dire circumstances. You see Gimli and Ori’s reaction. They don’t want to do it either.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense! If you want to protect Dwarves, shouldn’t you stop Professor Dáin so no Dwarf students are hurt?” The gaping hole in the logic had Kíli completely bewildered. This was so unlike Fíli, or the Fíli he knew, that he did not even know what to think.

“Well,” Fíli hesitated, which unnerved Kíli even more, “I’m pretty sure that all the Dwarf students will know by the end of the day about the Skrewts.”

“What?” Before Kíli realised it, he was standing up, looking at Fíli as if he had never known him before. “Are you telling me that as long as the Dwarves are safe, you can’t care less about what happens to other students? Would you have told me if I hadn’t been here?”

“Kíli!” Fíli stood up too and was equally agitated now. “How can you say that? I never said… That is not what I meant… Of course, I would have told you! You’re my best mate!”

Ignoring the hurt look on Fíli’s face, Kíli refused to relent. “But I’m only half a Dwarf, remember? What if you have to choose between me and a Dwarf, will you choose the Dwarf because he’s more your kin than I am?” 

“Please, Kíli,” pleaded Fíli, his eyes wet now, “I promise you that it won’t ever come to that. I will never give you up for anything or anyone else. I just… I can’t… I’m Thorin’s nephew. I have to live by the Dwarf standard. Please understand. I’m sure nothing will happen to the students and I promise you, the moment I feel any doubt about that, I will go straight to uncle and Dwalin right away. They will sort it out with Professor Dáin.”

“It’s still not right,” muttered Kíli but he did not have the heart to push Fíli any further because his best friend looked downright miserable. Perhaps Fíli did know what he was doing. He had known Dáin for a long time, after all. This was what Kíli kept telling himself at least. When he was walking back to the Gryffindor Common Room, however, his heartfelt as heavy as his feet.


	15. Chapter 15

Even with their increasingly heavy workload, Kíli and Fíli continued to go to Dwalin’s duelling sessions every week. Kíli found it quite refreshing, to be honest. He had always enjoyed Defence Against the Dark Arts whereas the added physical elements of duelling had only added to the classes’ appeal. Not to mention that the concentration required during duelling had taken his mind off things.

Ever since his argument with Fíli, Kíli felt, for the first time, that things between them became a bit awkward. Neither had either of them ever mentioned that incident again, but Kíli knew that it weighed on both of their minds. What was worse, Kíli started to realise that Fíli was correct in some way, now that he started to pay closer attention. Dwarves were indeed a very close and secretive group, something Kíli had not appreciated fully before. While Gimli and Ori laughed freely with Bain and Lindir and admired Arwen’s intelligence and beauty, they never discussed anything personal with them. That sort of conversation was reserved for their fellow Dwarves. And they were the more open-minded ones. Despite their general friendliness towards Men and Hobbits and their at least civil relations with Elves, Dwarves trusted none of them. In their hearts, they only truly cared about their kin. 

This realisation made Kíli doubt his place within the magical world even more. He now understood why there were very few wizards of mixed blood, even fewer half Dwarves. As far as he knew, he was the only half Dwarf in the entire school. He sometimes wondered how his father managed to convince his family to let him marry his mother. Were they angry with him? Was that why Thorin loathed him so because he was a half-Dwarf and the living proof that one of the best Dwarves chose someone from another race?

Normally, Kíli would have talked to Fíli about it. But given the delicate situation between them, Kíli felt reluctant to divulge his thoughts. Unfortunately, Kíli was never a naturally secretive person. Quite on the contrary, he needed an audience to help him deal with his doubts. That was his coping mechanism.

“Okay,” Tauriel’s impatient voice shook Kíli out of his world, “I’ve had enough of this! What, in the name of Merlin, is going on between you and Fíli?”

“Wh… what?” Kíli’s stutter did nothing to help his case. “Nothing’s wrong of course.”

“Oh, come off it.” Tauriel rolled her eyes most dramatically. “Anyone with eyes can see that something is going on. For one, you’re sitting here eating your dinner by yourself, while Fíli’s over there at the Ravenclaw table. I mean, you were practically joined by the hips before and I barely see one of you without the other. So, spill.”

Kíli sighed. Now that he came to think of it, it was quite obvious. He still went to classes with Fíli, of course, and they still sat together. But outside of class, apart from revision, their interactions had reduced significantly. Kíli could not remember who started it but he knew it was killing him inside.

“It’s okay, you know.” Tauriel placed her hand on Kíli’s arm, her voice surprisingly gentle. “We all go through rough times with our family and friends. I once had such a row with Aragorn that I cursed him during dinner.” she smiled reminiscently. “I’ve never seen Lady Galadriel so mad before. Landed myself two months worth of detentions with Alfrid on the spot. Aragorn himself refused to speak to me for a good three weeks.” 

Despite his worries, Kíli was intrigued. “What happened?”

“Well,” smirked Tauriel, “I think I was trying to turn him into a flamingo. But I was pants at Transfiguration so it didn’t really work. But he did start quacking while growing and shedding large red features at a frankly alarming rate in the dinner table, which made quite a mess. Happy days, huh?” Both Kíli and Tauriel sniggered. “But now we’re good as ever. Well, Arwen helped but still. Things like this do happen. You just need to know what’s important, your pride or your friend.”

Now that put things into perspective, thought Kíli miserably. Except he did not believe it was his pride that he was holding onto. He knew that he cared about Fíli a great deal and would almost do anything for him. Yet, on the other hand, he felt that he was justified in being angry with Fíli. How could he not be?

“Will you promise not to tell anyone about what I’m about to tell you?” Kíli asked tentatively. Even though he disagreed with Fíli’s decision and questioned Dáin’s judgement, as any sane person would, he had no desire to get them, particularly Fíli, into trouble. Kíli felt kind of sorry for asking this of Tauriel. She had been nothing but kind to him and genuinely wanted to help. Nevertheless, he had to be sure.

“I promise I will.” The look on Tauriel’s face was extremely serious and sincere, “I will not reveal this to another soul. I can make an unbreakable vow if you’d like.”

“No, no,” Kíli said hastily, “that won’t be necessary. Okay.” He chewed on his lips and looked around surreptitiously. Taking the hint, Tauriel rose from her seat and they walked out of the Great Hall together, raising a few eyebrows on their way out, Fíli’s included.

“Okay,” said Tauriel after they had found a deserted classroom, “now that we’re alone, spill.”

Painstakingly, Kíli told Tauriel everything about Dáin’s Blast-Ended Skrewts, Ori, Gimli, and Fíli’s decision, and their fight. Tauriel listened patiently. While she did jump out of her seat and gasp a bit too loudly when Kíli described the Skrewts, she did not interrupt afterwards, which Kíli was very thankful for.

“So now, I just feel weird around him,” Kíli said miserably. “I didn’t want to, I swear. And to be perfectly honest, I think I believed him when he said that he won’t give me up, at least not easily. But still, it doesn’t change the fact that he values the lives of Dwarves way more than anyone else’s, which is just, so NOT Fíli. What if a really bad situation comes up and he has to make a split-second decision between me and a Dwarf like Ori? Will his instinct take over and pick Ori instead?”

“Oh, Kíli!” Leaning in from her seat, Tauriel wrapped her arms around Kíli and gave him a brief yet tight hug. “I understand how you feel. Trust me, I do. A similar hierarchy exists in the Elf world too. I am a Silvan Elf, the lesser kind in our world. I have to fight that prejudice my whole life. The fact that I’m an orphan doesn’t help either.”

“You’re an orphan too?” Kíli was so shocked that he forgot his problems. He had never expected Tauriel, who was always positive and carefree, to be an orphan. 

“Yeah,” Tauriel looked down at her hands on her lap. “I lost my parents when I was young. My mum died giving birth to me and dad was killed during the last Wizarding War.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that.” Kíli felt his heart break for Tauriel, who he could relate to on so many levels now. “I know what it’s like. It’s just, I never know.”

“It’s okay.” Tauriel looked up and smiled. “You’ve got to move on, haven’t you? I don’t really talk about it because I don’t want people’s sympathy or pity. I am who I am.”

“Where did you,” Kíli had no desire to pry but his curiosity was killing him. “Where did you grow up, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“No, that’s fine,” said Tauriel. “I grew up in Thranduil Greenleaf’s household. He took me in because my dad used to work for him. He left me under Thranduil’s care before he decided to leave his post and fight in the war. Unlike Thranduil, my dad believed in good and justice and he cared about more than just his own family and the Elves around him.”

This was even more shocking than the fact that Tauriel was an orphan. Kíli simply could not fathom Tauriel growing up in the same household as Legolas and the infamous Thranduil. Tauriel laughed when she saw the look on Kíli’s face.

“It’s not that bad, honestly. Thranduil mostly left me to the care of the servants, which now looking back is really a blessing in disguise. I was never really exposed to the nonsense that Thranduil preaches to Legolas and I was well looked after. My interactions with Legolas are somewhat limited but he’s not that bad after a while. Still arrogant but I know how to deal with him.”

Kíli smiled. “Yeah, sure. I’m just really surprised and glad that you turned out alright. You must take after your dad. He sounded like a great wizard.”

“He was,” Tauriel’s voice raised an octave and her beaming smile was contagious. “Even though he wasn’t of such pure blood as someone like Thranduil, he was kind, open-minded, and compassionate. I wish all the Elves were like him. When you said the Dwarves are overprotective of their kin and too close-minded, Elves are not much better. To someone like Thranduil, the lives of other races mean absolutely nothing. Only Elf blood is worth protecting.”

“Is that why he never fought in the last war?”

“Yes.” The smile vanished from Tauriel’s pretty face. “He deemed it a waste of energy and Elf blood. In fact, he was angry at Professor Elrond and Lady Galadriel for engaging their people in the war. He thought they were meddling with things that were not of their concern.”

“So this is the magical world then,” said Kíli despondently. “Everyone only cares about their own kind. Even someone as nice as Fíli feels the same way.”

“Not everybody is like that!” cried Tauriel. “Haven’t I just told you, Professor Elrond and Lady Galadriel risked the lives of their people and their own to save the Wizarding world! Without their help, Men, Dwarves, and Hobbits alike would have suffered. And look at Professor Dwalin! He became known as one of the great warriors for a good reason! Not just because of his fierceness duelling but also because the compassion he had shown and the help he had rendered to all those in need, even the Muggles.”

Kíli perked up. Maybe there was still hope for Fíli, though he failed to see how that was possible with Thorin as his uncle and mentor, not to mention the responsibilities on his shoulders as the future leader of the Dwarves.

“Don’t doubt Fíli’s sincerity,” Tauriel said gently. “I’ve been watching you and I can tell he really cares about you. He does not value you any less than his fellow Dwarves. If anything, the opposite is true.” When Kíli showed every sign of objection, Tauriel raised her voice slightly to continue. “The only problem is that he has been brought up to think that way and he feels obliged, even though he does not want to, to conform to such ideals. Trust me, when put in a difficult situation where he has to make a quick decision on the spot, he will pick you in a heartbeat every single time. Just give him some time. It takes a lot to change your world view, which has been drilled into you since you are a child. But it will happen, especially for someone as kind and open-minded as Fíli. You know him well enough. He is still the same person that you have befriended and come to care deeply about. Don’t ever doubt that.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After talking to Tauriel, Kíli had felt a lot more hopeful about the situation with Fíli. True, they were still treading very carefully around each other. But at least they started going to meals and doing other things together again, which was a massive relief for Kíli. Being a naturally open and outgoing person, Kíli found that he did not handle solitude very well at all. 

The other benefit of their repaired friendship was that Kíli once again had company in Potions, which had turned from a nuisance to downright nightmare in the last couple of weeks. Thorin seemed to sense the shift in Kíli and Fíli’s relationship and naturally blamed Kíli for it. He was doubly harsh on Kíli, which Kíli did not think was possible before. Everything he did was scrutinised and criticised to the point that Kíli almost had a public meltdown in class. This, combined with the fact that Kíli stopped asking for Fíli’s help due to his pride, meant that his already abysmal Potions grade plummeted to a new low that Kíli thought could have set a school record. 

It was Saturday morning again and Kíli was more than looking forward to their duelling lessons with Dwalin. Now that he was talking normally with Fíli again, he expected a much more fun lesson than the subdued affairs he had to endure previously. He was so excited that he was practically overdoing all his spells.

“Okay, that’s enough, lad,” growled Dwalin after Kíli waved his wand a little bit too wildly again when casting Rictusempra so that instead of tickling Fíli, it sent a jet of water that drenched the other Dwarf. “Why don’t yer take a break before yeh set my office on fire?”

Kíli smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“Hmpf,” snorted Dwalin, “of course, yeh didn’t. Just a tad too excited, eh?” When Kíli looked down in shame, Dwalin smiled. “Oh don’t worry, lad. I’m not angry at yeh. If anything, I’m glad yeh two finally made up. It’s getting boring looking at yer forlorn faces in my office.”

Now Fíli looked embarrassed too. “I’m sorry, Professor. We just…”

Dwalin waved his hand airily. “No need to explain to me, lads. Whatever happened between yeh two was yer business. I’m not gonna judge.”

“I wish Professor Thorin would take this attitude,” muttered Kíli before he could stop himself. The moment the words were out, he regretted them. Unsurprisingly, Dwalin was on his feet immediately.

“Is Thorin giving yeh a hard time again?” Dwalin barked. “I’ve talked to him about it again and he promised to treat yeh fairly.”

“Uncle clearly has a very different opinion about treating Kíli fairly,” Fíli said sarcastically. “But even by his standards, he has been appallingly unfair.”

When Dwalin continued to fume, his face turning redder by the second, Kíli felt that he had to do something before he caused another rift within the Dwarf community. “It’s okay, really. I mean, I’m used to it now. Yeah, it was bad but Professor Thorin’s back to normal now.” He pressed on when Dwalin still looked mutinous. “Seriously, professor, it’s absolutely fine. I know Professor Thorin hates me so I don’t even take it personally anymore.”

Taking several deep breaths, Dwalin finally calmed down before giving Kíli a sad smile. “Yeh are so like yer dad. I’m so sorry, lad. I wish I could change Thorin but he’s as stubborn as a hippogriff and thick as a troll on this matter.”

Kíli laughed softly before sobering up. “Professor, if you don’t mind, could you perhaps tell me why Professor Thorin loathes me so much?” When Dwalin seemed to freeze on the spot, Kíli pressed on. “Please, professor, I just want to understand.” 

Dwalin sighed before he rose from his seat and walked over to the window, looking out into the Black Lake. When he did finally speak, however, he could hardly keep down the emotions in his voice. “I think I have told yeh when I went to pick you up to Diagon Alley that yer dad came from a very prominent Dwarf family. Well, so did Thorin. What I didn’t tell yeh, however, was that the Durins and the Oakenshields are  _ the _ most important Dwarf families. They may not be the richest, in yer dad’s case at least, but they come from noble, even royal bloodlines. Yer dad and Thorin were of the same age and the only heirs of their families. They knew of each other while growing up. Yeh could almost say that there was a bit of a rivalry between them since before they had even met. Once they did meet for the first time in Hogwarts, however, they took an instant disliking to each other. Or at least Thorin disliked yer dad immediately. I can’t honestly say I’m surprised, for they were the opposite of each other, despite their similar upbringings. Thorin had always been moody and quiet. He grew up hearing the tragic stories of his family and bore the heavy burden placed on his shoulders to restore the former glory. Yer dad, on the other hand, was bright and lively, always laughing and always cheerful, quite like yeh actually. While Thorin was cautious and resourceful, yer dad was trusting and impulsive. It was no wonder that the Sorting Hat put Thorin in Slytherin and yer dad in Gryffindor. I think Thorin might be jealous of Frerin for his carefree and happy nature, something that Thorin could never have. His dislike of yer dad grew stronger as the years went by as yer dad became the most popular student in Hogwarts. Then there was the incident of the Black Lake.”

“What happened?” Fíli asked curiously. “Uncle has never told me about it.”

Dwalin snorted. “‘Course he wouldn’t. A bit of a disaster for him really. Well, yeh know yer uncle. To say that he is directionally challenged probably qualifies as the understatement of the year.”

Kíli was shocked when Fíli laughed heartily. “Of course. I remember growing up with all those stories of uncle getting lost everywhere. Mum used to joke that her full-time job is locating uncle so she could rescue him. He even gets lost within Erebor.”

“Did he tell you that it took him five times to pass his Apparation test?” chortled Dwalin and Fíli’s eyes turned wide. “Yes! He couldn’t pass because he could never Apparate to the right location. Once he somehow landed himself straight on the stage of a strip club in London and nearly killed a poor naked girl.”

After the laughter had died down, Dwalin continued with his story. “Anyway, Thorin was supposed to meet yer dad for a duel in the Astronomy Tower but somehow ended up in the Black Lake. What I never understood was how and more importantly why he got into the lake. Surely he could not have confused that with the Astronomy Tower. Nevertheless, Thorin did and he got into a fight with the Giant Squid. It was a lost battle really because Thorin was not very good at swimming either. In the end, yer dad had managed to find him and alerted the professors to rescue Thorin from the Squid. It was the joke of the year and I’ve never seen Thorin so humiliated. It’s no wonder that his animosity towards yer dad only intensified afterwards, even though he did owe his life to yer dad.”

“Why were they duelling in the first place?” Kíli could feel his voice rise but he could not stop himself. Finally, he was getting the answers.

Dwalin looked slightly uncomfortable now. When he caught Kíli’s puppy eyes, however, he relented. “Well, it was all down to the proposed marriage between yer dad and Dís.”

“What?” Fíli and Kíli cried at the same time.

“Yes,” Dwalin smiled fondly, “now that was before Dís met Vilir, her One. So she was basically unattached at that time. It’s not uncommon for old families to form political alliances through marriages, as long as both parties have not found their Ones. Yer dad had, of course, already found his One in yer mother. But because she was a Muggleborn, nobody in his or Thorin’s family was willing to accept it. They thought it was just a passing fancy because they did not think Melian was good enough to be Frerin’s One, not to mention the fact that it was so rare for a Dwarf’s One to be a non-Dwarf. They were, of course, completely wrong for Melian was the best and only deserved the best. Frerin thankfully had some sense and would take none of that. He practically crashed the Christmas party where all the notable Dwarf families gathered together to witness the union between the Durins and Oakenshields.”

“What did he do?” Kíli asked, half amazed and half impressed.

“He steadfastly refused to marry Dís in front of everyone before he walked out of the party,” Dwalin said with a smile. “Thorin was beyond furious. I’ve never seen him so angry before.”

“How did mum take it?” asked Fíli and Dwalin chuckled. “Well, she seemed relieved to be honest, if the amount of alcohol she consumed and the crazy dancing she performed afterwards were anything to go by. I don’t think she fancied Frerin at all, even though he was a most eligible Dwarf. Being Melian’s friend also put her in a difficult situation because anyone with unbiased eyes could see that Melian and Frerin loved each other deeply. Thorin, unfortunately, was extremely biased.”

Finally, Kíli understood Thorin’s attitude towards him. In fact, this made him feel slightly better because Thorin’s disdain towards him did not so much stem from his personal traits as from the animosity between Thorin and his father. As Kíli had no way to change the past, he felt less responsible in the current situation. On the other hand, it did mean that it would be an almost insurmountable task to overcome Thorin’s predisposed attitude towards him. Try as he might, he would always be his father’s son and could hardly persuade someone as stubborn as Thorin to forget about the past of his father. The one thing that he did not fully comprehend, however, was Thorin’s remark that he was no son of his father. If Thorin had indeed loathed his father so, should he not be glad that Kíli resembled his father very little? 

“So basically uncle is projecting his feelings about Kíli’s dad onto Kíli,” Fíli said angrily. “This is so unfair! Kíli can’t change who his father is or what has happened between uncle and his dad! He didn’t even know his dad. For uncle to hold a grudge for so long and for such a ridiculous reason is just wrong!”

“I totally agree with yeh, lad,” Dwalin sighed. “And I have told Thorin more than once that he is being completely unreasonable. But you know yer uncle. Nothing and nobody can change his mind once he’s set on an idea. Yeh’ve said so yerself; he does hold a grudge.”

“Well, mum is about the only one who can do it. And I will write to her about it so she can slap uncle out of his pigheadedness,” Fíli waved his hand in emphasis. “Kíli is not going to spend the rest of his school years being tormented by uncle for something he has absolutely no control over!”

“It’s fine, really,” Kíli said hastily. He knew that Fíli meant well but he doubted that Dís could persuade Thorin. If anything, this would only cause discord between the siblings, which would surely incense Thorin even more. Besides, this was not Fíli and Dís’s battle to fight. It made no sense to drag them into this with their only family. Though Kíli was extremely grateful that Fíli was taking his side rather than sticking with Thorin, who was not only his kind but also his blood. Perhaps Tauriel had a valid point. Fíli did care a great deal about him. “I’m frankly relieved. I mean it’s not really my fault so I’m not going to take it personally. I’ll just ignore Professor Thorin and focus on my study. I’m sure this will go away after a while.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When May had finally arrived, it had brought much warmer weather and the last round of Quidditch matches that could decide the Champion of the Quidditch Cup. Ravenclaw was clearly in the lead while the other three houses were all pretty much bundled together. Gryffindor was in the second position but they had not played Ravenclaw yet, who had won both matches against Hufflepuff and Slytherin by at least 100 points. The first match of this round was Hufflepuff against Slytherin, which was a real tossup. 

“Our Keeper is better than the Slytherin’s joke of a player,” Thorin Stonehelm-Ironfoot said in Herbology one day. In all his enthusiasm, he moved his arms a little too animatedly that the Puffapod beans escaped his hand and landed on the pot right next to Bolg. It bloomed instantly and nearly slapped Bolg in the face. Thorin Stonehelm-Ironfoot ignored the Slytherin’s cursing. “Our Seeker is about the same level as Feren Woodland so it’s really hard predicting who’s going to catch the Snitch.”

“I think it will be down to luck on that one,” Bain nodded. “I don’t think our Chasers are that great, nor our Beaters. So it’s really down to the Snitch.”

“Come on,” Thorin Stonehelm-Ironfoot said bracingly, “be fair. Cedric is brilliant and he’s our Captain.”

“True, but Cedric is only one person. Chasers need to work as a team. The other two are alright and we’re better than the Slytherins but it’s not enough to win us the match alone. We have to catch the Snitch.”

“As much as I hate the Slytherins,” Kíli said while attending his Puffapod, “I have to say that Feren Woodland is a brilliant Seeker. From what I can see, you have an uphill battle against the Slytherins.”

Bain sighed. “I know. If the Snitch appears early we could very well be out. But if the Snitch doesn’t show up until much later, it could give us the chance to score as many goals as we could. Then if we catch the Snitch, who knows, we may even stand a chance at winning the Cup.”

“I won’t hold your breath if I were you.” Gimli pursed his lips and scrunched up his nose. “I can’t see how we can beat Ravenclaw. I mean yeah our Chasers and Beaters are a bit better than theirs but honestly, I don’t think we can score more than 150 goals than Ravenclaw because let’s face it, there’s no chance in Mahal’s soggiest pants that Hamson will catch the Snitch. Well, unless the Snitch has decided to appear out of thin air right in front of him but then still, he might miss it.”

Given the stage of the tournament and the current standings of the teams, the Hufflepuff Slytherin match was so highly-anticipated that practically everyone in the school went to watch it. Kíli, Ori, and Gimli all dressed up in the traditional Hufflepuff yellow and black colour to show their support, as did pretty much all the rest of the school apart from the Slytherins. Fíli, of course, remained neutral, mostly for Thorin’s sake. Kíli caught a glimpse of Thorin’s scowling face as he sat in the stand amongst the other staff members. It was clear that he wanted nothing less than a big Slytherin victory. Several seats down sat Professor Bilbo, who looked more nervous than competitive, if the surreptitious looks he threw in Thorin’s directions were anything to go by. Then again, Professor Bilbo had been one of the most mild-mannered persons Kíli had ever met so he was not surprised by his countenance. Being in close proximity to a very dangerous-looking Thorin most likely did not help either, thought Kíli half bitter half amused.

“Look at Legolas,” whispered Fíli and Kíli moved his eyes away from the faculty stands to the Slytherin ones. Sure enough, the silver blond head of Legolas was highly distinguishable amongst all the Slytherins, even at a distance. Rivalry or not, Kíli had to admit that Legolas was very good-looking and had that air about him that made him stand out. Except on this particular occasion, he looked even more anxious and determined than the actual players. So much so that Bolg, who was sitting next to Legolas, was looking at Legolas as if he had lost his mind. 

“I bet you anything that if Slytherin loses the match today, someone will suffer at Legolas’s hand,” Kíli said darkly. “He looked ready to murder if things don’t go his way.”

“This is not funny!” Fíli frowned. He could barely keep the concern out of his voice. “If he’s decided to take his anger out on someone, it’s probably going to be you!”

“Well,” Kíli shrugged, “he’s been quiet lately, hasn’t he? Maybe he has finally learnt his lesson. Maybe Tauriel has given him a good talking to. They grew up together, did you know that? But anyway, even if he’s still bent on targeting me, I feel much more prepared than before. All those lessons with Dwalin have got to count for something, haven’t they? Maybe I’ll get an upper hand this time and finally pay him back for what he did to you!”

Fíli still looked troubled. “I don’t know, Kíli. Slytherins are known for their aptitude for the Dark Arts. The house does not get a murky reputation for no reason after all. I know that Elves don’t really fit into that category but exceptions do exist. We still don’t know who cursed us in the Green House. What if Legolas happens to be the exception? He’s very clever and gifted in magic, after all. I bet you there are plenty of older students in Slytherin willing to teach Legolas some Dark Magic, especially if it’s to be used on a Gryffindor.”

“Doesn’t Professor Thorin get a say in this?” Kíli asked in surprise. He had never thought that the Dark Arts would be tolerated in Hogwarts, even in Slytherin.

“Uncle can only do so much,” said Fíli, his gaze shifting uneasily now. “He can hardly spend all his time in the Slytherin Common Room, can he? Besides, I don’t think uncle is strictly against the Dark Arts. I mean,” he added hastily at the astonished look on Kíli’s face, “he certainly does not condone any Dark Magic performed with the intent to harm others. But sometimes magic can be classified as Dark for other reasons. I mean, it’s more like a weapon where it can be used for good causes too. Of course, some are so evil that one can hardly argue their cases but some are more ambiguous and it’s really down to the wizard. Uncle’s of the opinion that that kind of spell can be useful in situations like self-defence or war against the Dark Lord.”

Kíli mulled over the argument. He supposed that Thorin did have a point. It was a bit like guns and nuclear weapons. While guns could be deadly in the wrong hand, they could be used for the right cause and save lives. Nuclear weapons, on the other hand, had little merit and really should not be used. Yet still, the idea of the Slytherins, especially Legolas and Bolg, capable of doing Dark Magic made him very uneasy. “Where do they learn Dark Magic anyway? I thought it’s not being taught at Hogwarts.”

“It’s not official,” answered Fíli, now looking a bit relieved at Kíli’s reaction to Thorin’s ideas. “But there are many books in the Restricted Section of the Library on the Dark Arts. Most of them are read by sixth and seventh-year students who study very advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts. At the end of the day, you can’t study the defence against something without any knowledge of the thing itself, can you? Not to mention that a lot of Slytherins come from very ancient wizarding families who are bound to have some books about the Dark Arts in their home libraries. You can even find them in the Library of Erebor. Most of them are old scripts passed down for generations. Back then, the classification of the Dark Arts was much looser and people engaged in them more frequently, even in daily life.”

Before Kíli could dwell more on this unexpected and slightly alarming aspect of the Wizarding World, the match had started and all his attention returned to the Quidditch pitch. In fact, the match was so gripping that he soon forgot about this particular discussion and was immersed in the match, following every movement of the players with rapt attention.

Just as expected, the Hufflepuff team took the lead, as their Chasers scored more goals than the Slytherins. Everyone’s attention, however, was on the Seekers. If the Snitch appeared early in the match, Slytherin could still win.

Unfortunately for the Slytherins, the Snitch remained elusive. The longer the match went on, the more they were behind despite their best effort, and the stormier the look on Thorin’s face.

“This is not looking good for the Slytherins,” Fíli said fairly. “Uncle is not going to like it but even if the Snitch shows up now and Feren Woodland catches it, they’re still pretty much out of the chase for the Quidditch Cup.”

Kíli personally could not care less if Slytherin won or lost. If anything, it would give him some secret pleasure to see the angry look on Thorin and Legolas’s face. To his surprise, his wish was soon granted, as the Snitch had finally appeared. Everyone’s eyes turned to the shifty little golden ball and the two Seekers raced on. Feren Woodland had a slight edge than Galion Mirkwood, which made everyone believe that the Snitch was in his pocket.

_ Bang! _

A loud cracking noise of the Bludger hitting Feren was soon drawn out by the gasps from the crowd as everyone witnessed Galion sped on and snatched the Snitch securely in his hand.

“Galion Mirkwood has caught the Snitch,” the commentator, Lee Jordan, announced with badly concealed excitement. “Hufflepuff won the match with 240 to 50.”

While the Hufflepuffs were singing and dancing to celebrate this miraculous win, the Slytherins were furious. Thorin looked as if he could curse whoever crossed his paths next and poor Bilbo was trying to slip away as quietly as possible. In the Slytherin stands, everyone looked extremely put out. But nothing compared to Legolas, who rose up angrily and shoved his fellow Slytherins out of the way. Perhaps Fíli did have a point. An angry Legolas was indeed a very dangerous one. And he would do well to watch his steps and remain vigilant for at least the next couple of weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Cedric is the Hufflepuff Seeker but I changed his role in the team here.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard not to end a Hogwarts school year without a bang, quite literally.

For the next couple of days, Kíli had been on tenterhooks, waiting to be attacked by Legolas at any time, which proved difficult because he was surrounded by Gryffindors and Ravenclaws so excited about the upcoming match that he was constantly distracted and dragged into strategy discussions that almost made him forget about Legolas. To Kíli’s surprise and immense relief, Legolas had shown no sign of outward aggression towards Kíli. Sure, he had been quite arrogant and cold to the Hufflepuffs but Kíli expected no less from Legolas. In fact, this was almost civil from him given that they had just lost to the Hufflepuffs. 

With the upcoming match that could decide the winner of the Quidditch Cup, the usual friendly atmosphere between Gryffindors and Ravenclaws changed subtly. For one thing, Gryffindors and Ravenclaws rarely sat at the other House’s table anymore, whereas before it was such a common practice that Kíli found the absence of blue and bronze very strange. But worse than that was the absence of Fíli. Even though they still went to class together, Kíli found that his time outside the classroom was spent without his best friend.

“Cheer up,” Gimli said during dinner on Wednesday night. “Everything will be back to normal after Saturday’s match. Actually, maybe give it a couple more days after that if Gryffindor loses. You don’t want to be seen fraternising with a Ravenclaw so close to a Gryffindor defeat.”

“I don’t care what people think,” Kíli mumbled as he picked his food listlessly, not really eating them, “I hate not being with Fíli.”

“You sound like a besotted git,” laughed Gimli, which earned him a glare from Kíli. Gimli quickly raised his hands in surrender, possibly remembering the fact that Kíli had been training with Dwalin for quite a while, and said more seriously, “But honestly, even Aragorn has managed to resist the urge to snog Arwen since last Saturday. Surely you can survive without Fíli for another week.”

“But both Aragorn and Arwen are on the Quidditch team,” Kíli argued. “Of course, they care. Neither Fíli and I are and I doubt I’m going to be that heartbroken if Gryffindor loses. It’s inevitable anyway so why should I keep my distance?”

Gimli shook his head. “Blimey, you’re impossible.” When he saw the miserable look on Kíli’s face, however, he relented. “Tell you what. Ori and I are going to visit Professor Dáin this Friday afternoon after Defence Against the Dark Arts. We promised we’d go help him with the Skrewts. I know it’s not a picnic but whatever. Why don’t you join us? We’ll ask Fíli to come with. Nobody will know and you can spend some time with Fíli outside the class.”

Normally, the idea of being anywhere within 5 miles of the Blast-Ended Skrewts would fill Kíli with dread rather than anticipation, which was a testament to how desperate he was. Nodding eagerly, he practically made Gimli swear to invite Fíli too. 

“Yes, yes, I will,” Gimli chuckled. “Mahal’s beard, you really are mental.”

Now that Kíli had this to look forward to, his life had certainly looked much brighter. He was so looking forward to Friday afternoon that the next two days passed in a blur. The moment they got off their Defence Against the Dark Arts class, Kíli was ready to rush to Dáin’s cabin, only to be stopped by Gimli.

“Not so fast,” hissed Gimli as he checked their surroundings to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “We need to go back to the Gryffindor Common Room first.”

“Why?” Kíli hissed back. Gimli rolled his eyes very dramatically. “Blimey, we can’t just march off to Professor Dáin’s cabin! It will draw everyone’s attention there and we do not want people to know about the Skrewts, remember? So we go back to Gryffindor Tower and come out when nobody is watching us.”

Kíli did not particularly like the idea. “Why don’t we go,” he looked around to make sure no one was paying them any attention. Fortunately, Legolas was nowhere in sight. Bolg was standing not far from him but he seemed too engrossed in a book. Most peculiar. Yet Bolg was not someone he needed to worry about, “to the Flying Practice Pitch? It’s much closer to Professor Dáin’s cabin and much less crowded. The team won’t be there either when it’s one day ahead of the match. They won’t want to risk any injuries. We can even fly for a while before we go to the Skrewts.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Gimli gave Kíli a sidelong yet appreciative look. “Sneaky, but I like it. Okay, let me go tell Ori.” 

Together, they caught up with Ori and Fíli - Kíli pretended to give Fíli some notes he had forgotten - and quickly told them the change of plan. Both of them agreed and they left their classmates to set off for the pitch separately.

It was a nice day outside, which made Kíli even more convinced that this was a great idea. The weather was warm and the sun was finally out, peeking shyly from behind the clouds. It only rained that morning, leaving the grass green and lush while smelling like fresh rain. In fact, had it not been for the prospect of seeing the feared Skrewts for the first time, it would have been a perfect afternoon for Kíli.

“There’s no one here,” Gimli said once they had reached the flying pitch. “Shall we head straight for Professor Dáin’s cabin? I just want to get this over with as quickly as possible.”

Sighing, Kíli agreed. Once Fíli and Ori had turned up, all four of them left reluctantly for Dáin’s cabin. When they got there, Dáin was nowhere to be seen. All they could see was a lone primitive-looking stone hut standing sentinel in front of the Forbidden Forest. The only decoration was the features of some extremely colour animals hanging on one side of the heavy wood front door and the beautiful unicorn hair on the other. Even though this was not Dáin’s primary residence - he did have his place in the castle, like all the other professors - this was where Dáin spent the majority of his time in. It looked well-used and regularly-maintained if only a little darkened by what looked like fire in certain spots. Various plants, some as ordinary as pumpkins, others much more magical, filled the garden. The heavy front door, however, remained firmly closed.

“He must be out in the forest,” Gimli said, frowning slightly, “or is he still in his class?”

“I think he’s still in class,” Ori said slowly. “We’re here early.”

“What do we do now?” Fíli asked as he cast his eyes around nervously. “Shall we just wait?”

Gimli exchanged a quick look with Ori before saying, “let’s get the Skrewts out so we can walk them. That’s all we needed to do anyway and we should be able to handle it without Professor Dáin.”

Now, this sounded like a very bad idea to Kíli. Fíli clearly shared the same opinion for he asked hesitantly, “are you sure? I mean, isn’t it better to wait for Professor Dáin and… I mean surely we can’t handle the Skrewts without supervision.”

“We know how to do it,” Gimli said confidently, “done it many times and nothing’s really happened. I mean they send sparks and stuff but that’s pretty much it. As long as you’re careful.” When Kíli and Fíli still looked apprehensive, he added quickly, “look, Ori and I will put the leash on the Skrewts for you. Once they’re on the leash, all you have to do is to follow them. You two will take one and we’ll take another. It’s really not that bad, just a bit tiring. You’ve got to run after them and that’s it.”

When Kíli opened his mouth to argue more, loud rattling noise from Dáin’s back garden made them all jump.

“The Skrewts are getting jumpy,” Ori wrangled his hands together nervously. “We better get them out now before they act up and blow up Dáin’s house.”

Sighing with defeat, Kíli and Fíli followed Gimli and Ori to Dáin’s back garden where 2 large wooden crates were stored.

“There are only 2 left,” Gimli said as he moved slowly towards one of the crates, his wand ready, “the rest have died fighting each other. Now, here we go.”

Kíli watched with fascination as Gimli slowly opened the crate to let the first Skrewt out. It was the ugliest thing Kíli had ever seen. It had grown to close to three feet long, with grey shiny hard shells. This one also had an arching sting on his back. Kíli supposed it was the male. As far as he knew, the females had suckers instead, which made Kíli shudder.

The Skrewt clearly did not appreciate being approached by Dwarves with a leash in hand and sent off some angry sparks menacingly. Gimli seemed well versed in dealing with them, however, as he deftly dodged the sparks and lassoed the Skrewt with great precision. When the Skrewt stood up angrily at Gimli, Ori cast a spell aimed at its soft underbelly, making it slightly calmer.

“The spell sedates the Skrewts,” Ori said with a big sigh of relief. “I think Professor Dáin invented it. Now this one is more or less docile and will not attack you unless provoked. Be careful though. It’s still dangerous so don’t do anything stupid.”

Kíli had to fight the urge to say that what they were doing that moment was actually stupid but he held his tongue. Antagonising Ori and Gimli, who appeared to know how to sedate a dangerous beast he was going to walk, seemed like a bad idea. So he simply nodded and took the leash from Gimli’s hand, while the other two proceeded to release the other Skrewt.

“Where should I take them?” Kíli hissed, not sure if shouting was a good idea in the presence of a Skrewt. The same concern was not shared by Gimli or Ori apparently, as they shouted back, “just around the Forest. Don’t go into the Forest and stay away from the trees.”

Kíli eyed the Skrewt sceptically. It squirmed impatiently, which prompted Kíli to start walking immediately. He soon learnt that he needed to be very careful for docile it might be, the Skrewt could still send sparks every now and then. He looked helplessly at Fíli, hoping his friend would have an answer like he always did. For once in his life, however, Fíli seemed completely lost for words. Sighing, Kíli beckoned Fíli to follow him so they could start walking the Skrewt.

The walk could hardly be described as enjoyable. Both of them were too tense around the Skrewt to properly talk. The longer he spent in the Skrewt’s company, the more convinced Kíli was that this was an extremely foolish idea. Instead of spending quality time with Fíli, he was babysitting a revolting animal that should not have existed in the first place. Damn Gimli and his stupid ideas.

The thought of Gimli made Kíli turn around to look for his friend, who was so much further behind that Kíli could barely see him. Sighing for what felt like the umpteenth time, Kíli turned around, only to find himself looking at Bolg’s ugly leering face half-hidden in the trees of the Forbidden Forest. What on earth was he doing here?

_ Bang! _

Kíli did not need to recognise the spell Bolg sent his way to know it was not benign. Raising his wand instinctively, Kíli was ready to defend himself, only to find Bolg laughing cruelly at him. Then he understood why.

The spell was not aimed at Kíli but the Skrewt! Now writhing in pain, the Skrewt thrashed so violently that it broke the leash. Kíli took a step back but he was not fast enough. Now free from any constraints, the Skrewt advanced on him with its sting arched. Kíli’s Expelliarmus bounced off the Skrewt’s hard shell and did nothing except incense it further. Before he knew it, a large jet of fire shot towards him. Kíli only had time to turn around so his face was saved from the fire but he could feel the searing pain of his back burning that he collapsed to the ground. What he saw from the corner of his eyes, however, hurt him even more than his back. Instead of finishing him, the Skrewt now advanced on Fíli, who stood rooted to the spot, his eyes wide as he took in Kíli’s back that was on fire. Kíli had to act. He threw himself at Fíli, knocked him down and started rolling around, trying to put out the fire. But the Skrewt was not done. More fire came his way and Kíli was certain this was the end for him.

“No! Kíli!” Fíli’s frantic voice was the last thing Kíli heard before he allowed himself to finally succumb to darkness.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next time Kíli woke up, it was to the familiar settings of the Hospital Wing. Blinking groggily, Kíli tried to sit up but even the slightest movement made him hiss in pain. 

Before he could attempt again, Kíli saw in the corner of his eyes a mop of golden hair moving up. Fíli had been dozing off on his bedside and was coming about just now. Kíli squinted his eyes and saw that it was dark outside. Kíli felt his heart expand at the sight of Fíli: He looked unhurt and well. His protection had worked.

“You’re awake!” Once Fíli had properly awakened, he caught Kíli’s smile and cried with surprise and relief! It looked as if he wanted to do nothing more than throw himself onto Kíli for a hug but managed to restrain himself at the last minute. The tears in his eyes were unmistakable, however. “Oh, Kíli! Thank Mahal, you’re awake! I’ll get Mister Oín right away!”

“Wait,” Kíli said before Fíli could leave. He wanted to have a private moment with his friend before Oín showed up to fuss over him. “Are you hurt? How long have I been out?”

Fíli gave him a pained look. “I’m fine thanks to you. Oh, Kíli, how can you be so stupid? You’ve been unconscious for a good three days. You had me worried sick! I was imagining the worst.” His voice sounded thick and his eyes were red and moist. Instinctively, Kíli moved his hand to hold Fíli’s. Composing himself, Fíli continued, “loads of people stopped by, Gimli and Ori, of course, but also Professor Dwalin, Professor Galadriel, even Professor Gandalf.”

“Gimli and Ori alright?” Kíli asked. “The Skrewts didn’t hurt them, did they?”

“No,” Fíli shook his head, “Professor Dáin finally got out of his class and managed to stun the Skrewt. He helped us get you to the Hospital Wing.” He took a deep breath and looked Kíli straight in the eye. “It’s all my fault! I should have listened to you and reported Professor Dáin so they could get rid of the Skrewts! But I was too stupid, too stubborn, and too cowardly to do the right thing. Now you’re hurt so badly where it should have been me…” he choked, “I’m such an idiot and I’m so sorry, Kíli. You must hate me now.”

So shocked by Fíli’s revelation, Kíli tried to sit up, only to grunt in pain again. Fíli jumped but Kíli squeezed his hand quickly to tell him that he was alright. Once Fíli had calmed down, Kíli spoke in a firm voice, “it is not your fault, Fíli! You couldn’t have predicted what was going to happen in the future! You didn’t provoke the Skrewt and you didn’t hurt me. Bolg was the one to blame! He must have followed us from the Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson to look for an opportunity. I should have been more alert but I thought Legolas is the only one to watch out for. Even if there were no Skrewts, he would have found another way to attack me! Stop blaming yourself, Fíli.”

“So it was Bolg who attacked you,” Fíli said darkly. “I’ve wondered who it was but I was too distracted and scared to notice anything after you had been attacked. Gimli and Ori did not mention him either.”

Kíli nodded. “He cast a spell at the Skrewt to provoke it. I suppose he must have slipped away when they arrived.”

“He’s going to pay for this!” The look on Fíli’s face was thunderous. He was clenching his hand so hard that Kíli had to prize his fingers open so he would not hurt himself. “I won’t let him get away with it! I swear!”

“I won’t hold your breath,” Kíli said matter-of-factly. “We have no evidence except my word. You know how much Professor Thorin hates me and Bolg is in his house. Besides, Legolas has been my main tormentor, not Bolg. He’ll probably just think I’m making it up.”

“Uncle wouldn’t!” Fíli cried and slammed his fist hard, fortunately on the soft bed. “Not for something so serious! I’ll make him see reason. Surely Bolg needs to be punished for something so vicious and despicable.”

“Well, we can certainly hope. But you see, Bolg’s one responsible, not you.” 

“I still made the wrong choice though,” Fíli said stubbornly. “You were right. The Skrewts are highly dangerous creatures that should not belong to a school. They could have hurt someone else! I should have listened to you but I let my misplaced loyalty prevent me from doing the right thing.”

It was strange. A month ago, Kíli would have given anything to prove himself right and make Fíli see reason. Now that he had gotten his wish, he wanted nothing more than to reassure Fíli that he did nothing wrong. “Your loyalty is not misplaced, Fíli. You stood by your people and did what is expected of you. You can hardly blame yourself for that.”

“But I can and I should,” Fíli cried passionately as he stood up and started pacing in the room. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. Deep down, I know that you are right and I agree with you. Yet I was too scared of what my fellow Dwarves and particularly what uncle would think if I stood up and did the right thing. But you see, that’s exactly what I should have done! It’s not the easiest choice but we need to do what is right, not what is easy. It takes real courage to go against the crowd to do what you believe is right and just. I must learn how to do that. If I am to lead our people, I need to be able to make the hard choice when required. I need to be brave and strong, like you, not cower under the pressure.”

Kíli swallowed. He knew that he could not persuade Fíli, for he just realised that his friend meant every word he had just said. So he did the only thing that he felt right. “I’m not as brave as you think, Fíli. But I will always support you no matter what.”

Fíli beamed at him and bent down to embrace him very gently. Kíli closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. His nostril was filled with the smell that was uniquely Fíli, a mixture of sunshine, earth, freshly-cut grass, and some herbs that could very well be from their Potions ingredients. It was so heart-warming and comforting that Kíli almost forgot his pain.

“I’m sorry to interrupt this cosy little reunion,” Thorin’s sarcastic voice made both of them jump. Fíli looked flushed while Kíli winced in pain. “But I believe Oín will want to see his patient now that he’s regained consciousness.”

“Now, now, Thorin,” Gandalf’s gentle voice stopped Thorin from making any further scathing remarks. He was followed closely by Lady Galadriel and Dwalin. Both of them looked very concerned. “Be easy on the young lad. He has been through enough.”

“Brought on all by himself,” Thorin said darkly. “If you’re stupid enough to get in close contact with something as vicious as the Dáin’s creations, you should be prepared to bear the consequences.”

“Says the one who helped Dáin sneak Fire Crabs into our dormitory.” Dwalin could not look less impressed, “that set my bed on fire.”

Thorin scowled. “And I did pay for my mistakes. A whole month of detention was no laughing matter.”

“It’s not Kíli’s fault!” Fíli piped up immediately, “He was hurt because he threw himself on me to protect me. Otherwise, it would have been me lying here too. He’s also the one who wants to report it but we stopped him. If anything, you should blame us, me in particular.”

Thorin’s eyes snapped to Fíli. “Are you covering up for your friend, Fíli?”

“No!” Fíli glared at Thorin. “Kíli saved my life! It was me who told Kíli not to tell anyone because, because we Dwarves stick together. He was very concerned that someone would get hurt and I, well, I didn’t listen.” He hung his head in shame. “I thought I was doing the right thing by sticking with my people. But I was wrong.”

The look on Thorin’s face changed from angry to disappointment. “If that is the case, I’m very disappointed in you, Fíli. You should have known better. Even though we are a close-knit group, we still need to forgo our personal loyalty to choose what is wise in the face of something as severe as this. Surely I have brought you up with more sense than this.”

“I’m really sorry, uncle,” Fíli whispered, his eyes shining with tears.

“Please, Thorin,” Lady Galadriel said in her melodic voice, “Fíli is still young and learning. Do not be too harsh on him. The injury of his dear friend has caused enough pain in his heart that he will surely learn from this experience.” She turned her beautiful eyes to Kíli and asked softly, “how are you feeling, Kíli?”

“I’m fine,” Kíli gasped. He always felt a bit breathless in the presence of Lady Galadriel’s ethereal beauty. “Thank you for asking, Lady Galadriel.”

“Kíli’s still in pain,” Fíli insisted, “Mister Oín needs to check on him.”

“And I will if people can stop standing in my way!” Oín’s grumpy voice came from behind Dwalin. He pushed his way through, mostly by brandishing his ear trumpet like a sword, to Kíli’s bedside and examined Kíli critically. “Hmm, it’s healing quite well for a third-degree burning. It’s still not pretty though, lad. Does it hurt badly now?”

Kíli wanted to be brave but even shaking his head had him clenching his teeth. Oín snorted. “No need to pretend, lad. You looked like a burnt potato.” This made Kíli’s inside churn. He now desperately wanted to get a mirror to take a look at himself. He was not sure if he would be able to live with a burnt face for the rest of his life.

“Will you be able to cure him completely?” Fíli asked, his eyes wide with fear.

“Of course,” grunted Oín. “The spell did the majority of the work so he’s in no real danger now. Thorin had also concocted the ointment for burning.” He opened a jar to show them some bright orange paste inside. “But first, drink this.”

“What is it?” Fíli asked and Oín rolled his eyes. “Pain relief potions. Otherwise, he might pass out from the pain.”

Kíli eyed the potions nervously but made no protest when Fíli carefully tipped it into his mouth. The effect was immediate. The agonising pain all over his body was gone and he let out a sigh of relief. Oín nodded approvingly and proceeded to apply the paste on him.

“Well,” Thorin cleared his throat and everyone except Oín’s eyes turned to him, “given the circumstances, I believe that the punishment should be given. Fíli, your error in judgement has resulted in serious injury to your fellow classmate. Therefore, you will…”

“Wait,” Kíli interrupted, which earned him an angry look from Oín, “it’s not Fíli’s fault.”

Thorin’s striking blue eyes locked with Kíli’s dark ones. “Explain.”

Kíli took a deep breath. Normally being scrutinised by Thorin would have scared him senseless. Yet he was determined to protect his friend from any unfair treatments. In fact, he felt his courage bolstered by Thorin’s willingness to punish Fíli, a misinformed decision it might be. Perhaps Thorin was fairer than he gave him credit for. “It’s not Fíli’s fault that I’m attacked by the Skrewt. Bolg is the one who cast the spell to provoke it and he should be the one bearing the punishment.”

Gandalf stepped in before Thorin could say anything. “This is a very serious accusation, Mister Durin. Do you have any evidence to support your claim?”

Kíli stared at the old wizard. He only had his words against Bolg. How could he prove that he was not lying? What if they didn’t believe him? “I… I saw him but he had already left by the time Fíli, Gimli, and Ori got there. I don’t…”

“That Half-Orc has been following Legolas and watching him bully Kíli for months,” piped up Dwalin angrily. “I won’t be surprised if he finally decided to get in on the action. He is Azog’s son after all.”

“We are not going to blame one’s father’s misdeeds on his son,” Gandalf said seriously. “I understand your sentiment but everyone in this school will be treated fairly. For such a serious offence, I must insist that we treat Mr Gundabad as innocent until proven otherwise.”

Fíli stood up from his seat so fast that he knocked the chair over. “But surely…”

“I’m afraid I have to agree with Gandalf,” Lady Galadriel said, her delicate eyebrows knitted together. “We cannot let our feelings get the better of us. Without sound evidence, we cannot condemn Mr Gundabad.”

“So we’re going to let him walk free now, are we?” Fíli snarled, forgetting his manners altogether. He seemed even angrier than Kíli. “Kíli has been attacked once already and it’s very possibly Bolg. And he’s not going to stop if we let him get away with it time and time again.”

“Another serious accusation.” Gandalf sighed. “One which I assume has no evidence?”

Fíli looked slightly sheepish. “Well, I caught sight of a Slytherin robe…”

“Which is not evidence, unfortunately, not even a circumstantial one. From what I’ve heard, it is Mister Legolas who has been giving Kíli trouble, not Bolg. We’re not saying we’re going to tolerate such behaviour,” Gandalf raised his voice at the mutinous look on Fíli’s face. “We just need evidence to prove Mister Durin’s statement.”

“But how…” Kíli asked only to be interrupted by Fíli’s excited voice. “Of course, Veritaserum!”

“I’m sorry?” Kíli was utterly confused now. What on earth was Fíli talking about?

“It’s the truth potion,” Fíli said excitedly. “We can use that to verify that you’re telling the truth.” He turned to Thorin, “do you have some in stock, uncle?”

Thorin nodded, “I have a couple of phials on hand just in case. Headmaster,” he addressed Gandalf, “we need the Ministry’s approval for its use on students.”

“I shall get such approval,” Gandalf said without hesitation. “I need to see Minister Saruman about some other business anyway.” He smiled at Kíli and Fíli. “Rest assured that justice will be served. In the meantime, please get some rest and get better.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thorin’s burning paste had worked wonders. When Kíli woke up the next morning, he was feeling miraculously better. His skin still felt tender, but at least the pain had eased significantly. Sighing with joy and relief, he opened his eyes, only to find Fíli’s head perched on the nightstand next to his bed.

“Fíli,” Kíli cried, which jerked Fíli awake immediately.

“Wha…” Fíli said unintelligibly as he rubbed his eyes. Once he was fully awake, he jumped to check on Kíli. “How are you feeling now? Does it still hurt? You’re looking better.”

“I’m feeling much better too,” Kíli quickly assured Fíli. “I think the ointment has done its job. But when did you get here? I thought you went back to the Ravenclaw Tower last night.”

Fíli gave him a sheepish smile. “I did but I just couldn’t sleep. I kept waking up to dreams of you never heal. In the end, I just, well, I sneaked out.”

Kíli opened his mouth and closed it. He did not know what to say. He already knew that Fíli’s friendship was the best thing that had ever happened to him but still found himself amazed by his friend and his devotion. Now that he was no longer plagued by the unbearable pain, Kíli took full advantage of his regained mobility to rise and hug Fíli tightly.

“I’m really fine,” Kíli said to Fíli’s hair. “You must take care of yourself. I don’t want you caught by Alfrid or wear yourself out because you’re not sleeping properly.”

Fíli beamed at him. “Now that you’re making good progress in your recovery, I can sleep at night. Are you hungry? I can go get you some breakfast.”

Now that Fíli had mentioned it, Kíli suddenly felt ravenous. Nodding eagerly, he watched Fíli leave the room to find Oín so the Healer could check on Kíli while Fíli went to find food.

The checkup was much easier this time. Oín was pleased with Kíli’s recovery but insisted on plastering more paste on Kíli “just in case”. By the time Fíli was back with a tray laden with scrumptious food, Kíli was covered in orange paste again.

“Are you going to class today?” Kíli asked once they had finished breakfast. He just remembered that it was Tuesday that day and Fíli did have Charms first thing in the morning.

“Yeah,” Fíli nodded, “I really want to skip Charms and even talked to Professor Elrond about it. He’s so nice and understanding that he told me I can make up the class once you’re better. But uncle insists on me not missing any more classes.”

Kíli sighed. He knew it was too good to wish for Fíli’s company when he had classes all day. Yet the idea of spending all his day in bed, covered in paste, with limited range of motion, was deeply unpleasant. “I suppose Professor Thorin’s right. Besides, you love studying.”

“Not as much as I care about you,” Fíli said without the slightest hesitation. “I just don’t like the idea of you being cooped up here by yourself. Besides, I want to be present when they give you Veritaseum.”

That particular part of yesterday’s conversation had frankly unnerved Kíli. He had no idea what Veritaseum was and was eager to find out before he had to drink it.

“Don’t worry.” Fíli patted Kíli’s hand gently. “It’s really not bad actually. People use that in Wizengamot, the Wizarding court, all the time, both to question suspects and witnesses. It’s odourless and tasteless and as far as I know, doesn’t have any funny side effects. Now its efficacy has been hotly debated because apparently it can be fought. But we’re not strong enough to do it.”

“But it’s banned against students, isn’t it?” Kíli was still not fully convinced.

Fíli shrugged. “Yeah but a lot of things are. I mean, we can’t drink firewhisky until we’re of age, can we?”

Kíli simply gave him a bland look and Fíli slapped his hand on his forehead. “Sorry, I forgot. Firewhisky is this really strong drink, much stronger than butterbeer. Anyway, no one under the age of 17 can drink it. I’ve tried it once before though.” The mischievous glint in his eyes was something Kíli did not see every day. “I stole some from uncle’s cupboard because I was too curious to find out what it was all about.”

“How was it?” Kíli asked, sitting a bit straighter gingerly, his curiosity piquing.

“Pretty bad actually.” Fíli made a face. “It really burns and I almost passed out after just one mouthful. Dwalin found me out cold with a bottle in my hand and nearly had a heart attack.” He sniggered while Kíli laughed. “He managed to put me to bed though and kept my secret from mum and uncle.”

“Professor Dwalin is the best,” sighed Kíli and Fíli nodded. “Totally. But anyway, I woke up the next day with a searing headache but was otherwise fine. So I really don’t think you need to worry about Veritaseum. You’ve got nothing to hide so you’ll be fine.”

This did assuage some of Kíli’s concern. When Gandalf turned up during lunch break with Thorin, Dwalin, Lady Galadriel, and a wizard Kíli did not know, though he suspected he must be someone from the Ministry, Kíli was calm and prepared for his questioning.

After a quick introduction (the strange wizard was indeed a ministry official who was here to bear witness), Thorin rummaged in his pocket to present a bottle of clear liquid. He opened it and tipped three drops into the cup of water on Kíli’s bedside table. Swallowing hard, Kíli gulped down his water in one go and took a deep breath. To his amazement, he did not feel any different. The rest of the group, however, seemed to think that the potion had worked.

“Now,” said Gandalf, “could you please describe to us the details of the attack on your person on Friday afternoon?”

Kíli nodded and opened his mouth. Before he could gather his thoughts, however, he found words pouring out of his mouth without his conscious effort, describing in great detail what had happened. Panicking slightly, he tried to stop himself from talking but to no avail. Now he understood how the potion worked.

Once Kíli was done, the whole room fell silent. Kíli waited nervously for their reaction, fearing that they would not believe him. Incredulously, the first one to speak was Thorin. “We must summon Mister Gundabad immediately. Such behaviour from a student, a first-year no less, is totally unacceptable and must be addressed.” 

Kíli could not help himself but blurt out, “you believe me!”

Thorin gave Kíli a solemn look. “I have no reason not to, Mister Durin. The spell you have described is rather advanced Dark Magic that no regular first-year is even aware of. I personally am astonished that Mister Gundabad has managed to perform it. He does not strike me as particularly gifted. But his family does have a long history of proficiency in the Dark Arts.” He turned to Gandalf. “Eager as I might be to punish Mister Gundabad for his cowardly disgusting act, I believe the Headmaster should be the one resolving something so severe. I trust you’ll see to it that Mister Gundabad is properly punished for such an egregious attack on a fellow student.”

Gandalf nodded gravely, “I certainly will. It pains me to see a student so young to be corrupted by the Dark Arts. I sincerely hope that our intervention is timely enough to prevent him from slipping further into the Dark side.”

“I won’t hold my breath,” Dwalin snorted. “If Fíli was right, this is not the first time Bolg has attempted to seriously injure Kíli. Fíli took the brunt of it last time and we had no proof. I’m glad we can get this little bugger now.”

“Please, Professor Dwalin, language,” Lady Galadriel chastised mildly. Her beautiful face, however, showed no sign of its usual serenity. “I must, however, agree with Professor Thorin. The punishment for Mister Gundabad shall be appropriately severe that it acts not only as a form to serve justice but also as a deterrent for future offenders.”

Gandalf sighed, “Of course, I will deliberate on the details of his punishment. I must caution you against any inappropriate behaviour towards Mister Gundabad, however. Angry you might be towards him, the only source of the penalty shall be the official one given by the school. We will not feed violence with violence.”

Thorin nodded. “Fine. But as Mister Gundabad’s Head of House, I must speak to Gundabad Senior about this, Gandalf. I also want to know what kind of magic he has been teaching his son at home.”

Now that they had reached an agreement, Gandalf turned to Kíli with his piercing blue eyes and smiled. “Thank you for your testimony, Mister Durin. I am sorry for what you have been through but the culprit will be punished. In the meantime, I suggest you get plenty of rest to recover. I presume that Mister Arken is going to help you with your schoolwork?”

They had not talked about it but Kíli assumed Fíli would help him catch up. He nodded and Gandalf gave him a satisfied smile. “Excellent. Now that our business is done here, I will leave you to rest in peace.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this Chapter doesn't feel too rushed. I'm still not the best at writing action scenes but hey, I gave it a try :)


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kíli had reached the end of the his first year, but it was just the beginning of his journey.

It took Kíli a whole week to fully recover, the longest he had ever spent in the Hospital Wing. Thanks to Thorin’s magical ointment and Oín’s superior skills, there was no visible scar left on Kíli, which was a massive relief. During his confinement, Kíli got to spend the time catching up on homework brought to him by Fíli, who also relayed the news of the school.

“Gryffindor lost the match 120 to 300,” Fíli said apologetically. “Ravenclaw won the match after our Seeker caught the Snitch.”

Kíli sighed. This was the end of their Quidditch Cup hope, as well as the House Cup since Ravenclaw was leading in that realm too, largely due to the points earned by the Ravenclaws for out-performing in classes and the countless points lost by the evil twins for breaking school rules. Gryffindor’s only hope of winning the House Cup was beating Ravenclaw in Quidditch. Kíli knew that Gryffindor could not win in a million years but still, a sliver of hope had kept him dreaming the impossible. Now that this was crushed, he was forced to accept the fact that unless they managed to find a better Seeker next year, Gryffindor’s chance of winning the Quidditch Cup would always be as slim as teaching a stampeding troll to dance ballet. 

“On the bright side,” Fíli’s face lit up with a satisfied smile, “Bolg has been suspended until the end of the school term and may not even return next year.”

“What?” Kíli cried in surprise. He had not expected such a severe punishment for Bolg. True, Bolg had almost killed him. But he thought he would be shown some leniency, as he was only a first-year. 

“Indeed! Uncle was most displeased with the result for he wanted to have Bolg expelled. But Professor Gandalf insisted that Bolg be given a second chance, provided that he had shown remorse and refrain from a second offence.”

“Professor Thorin wants to expel Bolg because of me?” Kíli said in a whisper. He was having a hard time believing his ears. He knew that Thorin had believed his testament, which was an anomaly on its own. But to think that Thorin would willingly punish one of his own House for Kíli was just unfathomable.

“You should give uncle more credit,” Fíli said seriously. “He might be grumpy and sometimes biased. But he knows right from wrong, good from evil. I’m not just saying it because he’s my uncle. I’ve watched him govern over our people for so long, guiding them and protecting them. He’s not highly respected amongst Dwarves for no good reason. When it comes to critical times, uncle can always set his personal feelings aside to make the right choice.”

Kíli nodded, still slightly dazed by all the news. Now that he came to think of it, he supposed that it made sense. Thorin was clearly an effective leader and well-respected and even liked amongst his people. He was also a close friend of Dwalin and had mentored Fíli since his childhood. The fact that Fíli turned out to be such an intelligent, brave, and loyal Dwarf must be the testament of Thorin’s merit. “Wow, I just never thought. Well, I must say I’m really grateful and glad. So Bolg won’t be in Hogwarts for the rest of the school term?”

“No,” confirmed Fíli, “and because he won’t be able to sit our exams, he most likely will have to repeat his first year even if he does come back next year. So worst-case scenario, he’ll come back but won’t be in our year. I reckon we won’t have to interact with him much at all that way.”

This was indeed very heartening news. Kíli would definitely appreciate going to his classes without the constant need to watch both his front and his back so he could focus on his study. Besides, without Bolg as his bodyguard, perhaps Legolas would become less blatantly hostile. “Who’s going to determine if Bolg is coming back then?”

“Professor Gandalf will make the final decision along with two Minister officials,” Fíli said. “If two out of three agree to allow Bolg to come back, he will.”

Quite frankly, this was the best outcome Kíli could have hoped for. Even if Bolg did come back, hopefully, he would not have the opportunity to bother Kíli much. With any luck, this would also serve as a reminder for anyone who wished to pick on Kíli, or anyone else for that matter. Of course, it would be great if Bolg did not return but Kíli was not going to get his hopes up high. After all, Bolg came from an old Pureblood family and his father seemed a powerful wizard resourceful enough to avoid punishment for being a Death Eater in the last Wizarding War. Surely something as small as this could be smoothed out by his father. Besides, maybe Professor Gandalf was right. People did deserve a second chance, even someone like Bolg.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once Kíli had fully recovered, he threw himself into schoolwork. With just two weeks left until their final exams, everyone was revising like crazy.

“What are the twelve uses of Dragon’s Blood and how can they be applied to Potions?” Fíli asked one Thursday afternoon. They had just finished Flying lesson and instead of lingering in the Flying Pitch longer or going back to their Common Rooms to rest before dinner, they headed straight to the library for revision. 

“Er, healing?” Kíli guessed wildly while Fíli sighed in exasperation. “Okay, not healing then. Er, blood magic? I mean, dragon blood, still blood, isn’t it?”

Fíli looked as if he was ready to smash the heavy volume in his hand directly on Kíli’s thick head. “No,” he gritted out, “definitely not blood magic, which incidentally can be very dangerous and certainly not something in the first-year curriculum. Here, read this passage.” He shoved the book into Kíli’s hand, who took it reluctantly and started to read.

In the next table, Bain and Thorin Stonehelm-Ironfoot were going over their Herbology notes furiously, muttering to themselves. Even Legolas, who always seemed too proud and arrogant to do mundane tasks such as revision, was sitting several tables away from them, practising his wand movements while reading his notes. For once in his life, he was not bothering Kíli. True, the looks he threw Kíli was still filled with disdain but he chose not to act on them. Bolg’s severe punishment, it seemed, had done its job.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Their exams started in the first week of June. All the subjects, except History of Magic, consisted of both theoretical and practical questions making them long and gruelling. All the students were issued standard quills with anti-cheating spells. The exams took place in their usual classrooms because the Great Hall was occupied by fifth and seventh-year students.

“I hate O.W.L.s,” Aragorn said dramatically as he threw himself down on the bench of the Gryffindor table during dinner time on Tuesday, the tables having been restored during meal times. “I have no idea how the evil twins survived that with a smile on their face.”

“Ordinary Wizarding Levels,” Fíli explained at the puzzled look on Kíli’s face. “They’re exams you take at the end of your fifth year. If you achieve the required grade, you can progress to take advanced N.E.W.T. level classes. At the end of your seventh year, you take N.E.W.T.s, Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test.”

Kíli laughed at the name but soon stopped when he realised Fíli was not joking. “Seriously? The test is called Nastily Exhausting?”

“That’s because they are,” Lindir said as he joined them at the table along with Arwen. Tauriel rolled her eyes. “Can’t you at least act like you’re not a Gryffindor? We don’t want Ravenclaws at our table, not after the match.”

“Touchy, aren’t you?” smirked Lindir. “You don’t have a problem with Fíli spending half of his time here.”

“Fíli’s not on the Quidditch team,” Tauriel said seriously. “Besides, he spent most of his time post-match looking after Kíli, instead of laughing at our faces or gloating over the Quidditch Cup.”

“Arwen’s on the team too.” Kíli pointed out fairly.

“Yeah, but she’s Aragorn’s girlfriend, isn’t she?” Tauriel waved her hand as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “Her presence and snogging skills make Aragorn happy, which in turn makes our lives easier. So why not?”

“Hey,” both Aragorn and Arwen cried in indignation, their faces pink, while the rest of them laughed heartily. Once they had calmed down, Kíli continued his questioning. “So N.E.W.T.s are the exams you take before you graduate.”

“Yup,” Lindir said, “it’s the highest qualification Hogwarts can offer. Most of the much sought-after jobs require N.E.W.T. grades so they’re pretty important. Some may take O.W.L.s but if you want to be an Auror, or a Healer, or a Hogwarts professor, you better have your N.E.W.T.s ready.”

“So the evil twins will sit them next year?” asked Kíli. “That must be really hard.”

“It should,” Aragorn nodded, “but you know them. They never seem to give a damn about anything in the world yet still manage to come out the other side. I swear I never saw them studying for their O.W.L.s last year but when the results came out, they got 7 each.”

“They’re only taking 5 N.E.W.T. classes,” Arwen said. “None of them wants to go into the Ministry or Healing for that matter. Actually, had it not been for dad, they might have skipped school after O.W.L.s to play Quidditch professionally or travel the world.”

Now that sounded like the evil twins. Kíli often had a hard time believing that they were actually the brothers of Arwen and sons of Professor Elrond. He did feel better about his exams, however. At least they were not as long as O.W.L.s and would be completed after a week rather than two.

Not all the exams were equally bad. Kíli found himself quite enjoying his Defence Against the Dark Arts one. He had no problem with any of the written questions and all his spells were cast to perfection.

“Well done, Kíli!” Dwalin boomed after Kíli demonstrated a Smokescreen Spell so powerful that the whole classroom was filled with smoke. “Excellent wandwork and perfect control of yer magic! I’m so proud of ya, laddie!”

His Charms exam was equally fun. Kíli took great pleasure in making his pineapple dance salsa with Fíli’s across the table, drawing a laugh from Professor Elrond. “That’s lovely, Kíli. Brilliant control of the pineapple.”

The Flying exam was probably the most exciting yet laid-back one. None of the students was required to take the class after their first year so the grades did not matter. All they had to do was to fly around the pitch and land safely. Kíli was grateful for such distraction from the other exams and his classmates felt the same. It was perhaps not surprising that at the end of the exam, everyone joined in to play an impromptu Quidditch match, Professor Bard included.

His other exams were less enjoyable. Transfiguration was notoriously complex and difficult, which left Kíli’s head buzzing and spinning after the exams. He promptly avoided Lady Galadriel, feeling ashamed of his performance, where he turned his mice into a snuff box that somehow resembled a miniature toilet. Thankfully Herbology was not too bad. Bilbo was always a delight to be around and he managed that even during the exams. History of Magic was the shortest one, as it had no practical part, while Astronomy took place at night, which went like a blur. 

The worst, of course, was Potions. Despite the fact that Thorin had handled Bolg’s punishment most fairly, he was still no fan of Kíli, who found it extremely hard to concentrate when he could feel Thorin’s piercing eyes fixed on him, especially during the practical part of the exam. Try as he might, Kíli’s Forgetfulness Potion was runny with the wrong colour. He also forgot to add valerian sprigs, making the potion significantly less effective.

“Well, it wasn’t that bad.” Fíli tried his best to comfort him. “At least your potion did not curdle into a useless mess as Bain’s did. And there was no explosion.”

“Is that what I’m aiming for now in Potions?” Kíli said miserably. “As long as I don’t start an explosion, everything is fine.”

“Well,” Fíli seemed lost for words.

“I want to do well in my classes,” cried Kíli angrily. “I mean, I’m not stupid, am I?”

“You’re very bright!” Fíli assured him quickly. “Look at your Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts work. I won’t be surprised if you get top marks in those two subjects.”

“Then why can’t I do it in the other ones too?” Kíli simply did not understand it. He wanted to do well and prove those naysayers that he was a true wizard worthy of his father’s name. He wanted to show them that blood did not matter.

“All you need to do is practice more and gain more confidence,” Fíli said firmly. “I’ll start tutoring you in Potions and Transfigurations next year if you want. I know you can do it. Besides, stop worrying until the grades are out. The exams are supposed to be hard to test us. You really didn’t do that badly.”

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Once the exam week was over, everyone except the fifth and seventh years decided to make full use of the rest of the term to enjoy themselves. As most of the Prefects and the Head Boy and Girl were still taking their exams, rule-breaking was understandably on the rise. Alfrid the Caretaker was soon running himself ragged trying to catch all the rule breakers, Mister Lock following him closely everywhere he went.

“Elladan Peredhel!” Alfrid screeched one afternoon in the school corridor leading to the dungeon, “if you don’t get down from the ceiling this very second, I swear…”

“I’m Elrohir, you fool,” laughed one of the evil twins, who seemed determined to remain stuck to the ceiling so he could either study the paintings in the ceiling or ambush unsuspecting students, most likely Slytherins, from a high vantage point. Somehow Kíli suspected the latter. “I quite enjoy the view here, thank you very much. I’d invite you up, Alfrid, except you can’t really get up here, can you?”

Alfrid’s face turned an ugly shade of puce while the crowd sniggered. Kíli’s laughter was soon interrupted by the quiet hissing from Mister Lock, who had just magically appeared next to Alfrid’s ankle. Kíli stared at the cat, who stared back, a malicious glint in his yellow eyes. His back was arched and his claws extended as if ready to attack. Kíli gulped and took a step back, running straight into Fíli.

“What’s the matter?” Fíli asked.

“Mister Lock!” cried Kíli but when he looked back at Alfrid, the cat was gone. This filled Kíli with more dread. Somehow he felt this was far from over. He never liked Mister Lock, just like any other students. Now Kíli suspected that his distaste for the animal might stem from a different source. Before he could contemplate the matter any further, however, Kíli was promptly distracted by the loud cheers from the crowd. Looking at the source of the commotion, Kíli just managed to get a glimpse of the twin floating in the air unsupported until he landed gracefully on the ground, bowing to the audience. Impressed by that clever bit of magic, Kíli cheered and laughed with the crowd, Mister Lock completely forgotten.

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Their exam results came out during the last week of June, right before they were ready to leave Hogwarts for a long summer holiday. It came as no surprise that Fíli received top marks in all the subjects except Defence Against the Dark Arts and Charms, where he narrowly missed the top spot to Kíli. Kíli’s own marks in other subjects were less stellar but he did pass all of them. He did alright in Herbology, History of Magic, Flying, and Astronomy. His Transfiguration mark was not brilliant and he only just passed Potions. 

“Don’t worry about your Potions’ mark,” Aragorn said wisely. He was still waiting for his O.W.L. results, which were not due until the summer holidays. “Professor Thorin’s exams are notoriously difficult. In fact, our O.W.L. exam was almost easy by comparison.”

“That’s his teaching philosophy,” Arwen said. “He believes that if he prepares us for the toughest challenges ahead, we’ll be able to get through any hurdles in later life much more easily.”

“Or have a mental breakdown and be committed to St. Mungo’s Mental Ward,” sniggered Lindir, earning him a stern look from Arwen. 

This did make Kíli feel better. In fact, he was so relieved that he was finally sparing his summer holidays some thoughts. Truth be told, he was very reluctant to leave Hogwarts. During his one year stay, Kíli had come to regard Hogwarts as his home way more than the orphanage had ever been. It was not that he did not like the orphanage or was not grateful for what Madam McGonagall had done for him. Yet he knew, deep down, that it could never quite be his home. He wished he could stay in Hogwarts until the beginning of his new school year.

“Cheer up,” Fíli said with a smile, “you managed Christmas holiday fine, didn’t you?”

“But this time it's two months!” Kíli knew it was unseemly to whine but the urge was hard to resist. “I’m going to miss Hogwarts and you lot so much.”

“Tell you what, why don’t we do our shopping for next school year together? We can meet at Erebor and spend the whole day in Diagon Alley. If uncle has already gone back to school, you can come over and stay with us, just like the Christmas holiday.”

“Brilliant!” Kíli said enthusiastically. “I can’t wait to see what we need for next year! And I really miss your mum too.”

“So it’s settled!” Fíli clasped his hand excitedly. “I’ll keep in touch. I promise. If you ever need somewhere to practice magic, just raven me. I’ll come and get you right away.”

All in all, Kíli had to admit that his first year at Hogwarts was far from eventless and boring. He had made some great friends and a couple not so pleasant foes. He had learnt so much magic and excelled in some, which was more than he could have hoped for. But most importantly, he had met Fíli, his best friend and ally, someone he could share his happiness with, someone he could confide his secret to, someone he could even trust his life with. When he was standing at the King’s Cross Station, just outside Platform 9 ¾, the only thing Kíli felt was happiness and gratitude. He was looking forward to next year and all the adventures it would bring.


End file.
